


Soulmates!

by Common_fan_writes



Series: Batfam Moments [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: Censored (mostly) Cursing, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Heartwarming, I hope you like the story, Light Angst, M/M, Soulmates, platonic & romantic relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23897179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Common_fan_writes/pseuds/Common_fan_writes
Summary: A collection of different soulmate AUs where they find their soulmates.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Batkids - Father-Child Relationships, Bruce Wayne & Selina Kyle, Cassandra Cain & Stephanie Brown, Damian Wayne & Jonathon Kent, Jason Todd & Roy Harper, Jason Todd/Artemis of Bana-Mighdall, Jason Todd/Timothy Drake, Richard Grayson & Jason Todd, Richard Grayson/Barbara Gordon, Richard Grayson/Koriand’r of Tamaran, Timothy Drake/Cassandra Sandsmark, Timothy Drake/Conner Kent, Timothy Drake/Stephanie Brown
Series: Batfam Moments [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571305
Comments: 10
Kudos: 89





	1. One Shared Melody

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the characters. The ideas for soulmates are not purely mine, and at the moment, I have more ideas from outside sources than I have ideas from my own mind. I do not know where most of these ideas first originated.
> 
> Small (or big) plot details will likely not fit in with the cannon world or how things happen in DC’s comics. This is because this work is merely a fanfiction I didn’t feel pouring my heart, soul, and time into making perfect. I write these for the fun of it, not for perfection.
> 
> I also have intentionally changed things in certain parts. Some things have been forced to change based on the AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soulmate AU where each pair of soulmates has one shared melody only they know.

—— **Richard**

Richard wondered why he had this special song. It belonged only to him, he knew, but he wondered why. He’d asked his parents, but they’d only laughed and promised he’d know one day. 

A few years later, it’d seemed less than important. Their mangled bodies flashed through his eyes every time he closed them. The familiar melody had sometimes played in his ears, comforting him somewhat, for he knew it was special and only for him. 

He’d asked Bruce, when he first became comfortable. It’d come to his mind one day when they were sitting on the couch watching TV, small Richard cuddling in Bruce’s lap. 

Bruce didn’t know. 

Now, the question comes again, years later. Time had flown by without giving him a glance, and the song had always been a comfort. He needed it more than ever now, especially with Barbara’s paralysis weighing on his conscience. 

If he had only saved her... 

The song filled his ears, filling him with the irresistible urge to ask. 

“Alfred?” 

“Yes, Master Dick?” 

“Why does this song keep playing in my ears?” 

Alfred paused before replying. “That song is for you. You and your soulmate only. You’ll know it’s the right person when they share the same song.” 

“Hm,” Richard responded, thinking. “Did you ever meet your soulmate?” 

“Long before you were born, Master Dick.” 

Richard paused, absorbing himself in his thoughts for a few moments. Had his parents shared their song? Would he ever find his soulmate? 

“Is Barbara going to be okay?” 

“She is a strong woman,” Alfred answered. “It is likely she’ll be paralyzed for life, but she’ll recover and overcome it.” 

Richard sighed. “Yeah, she will. She’s awesome like that. Like you.” 

“Thank you, Master Dick.” 

“I’m going to go check on her. Bye Alfred!” 

“Have a good day, sir.” 

Richard sprinted to Barbara’s place, taking no less than two seconds to reach her room. He paused at her door. There was a song coming through the door. 

She was humming his song. 

—— **Timothy**

**Some Time Later**

Timothy wasn’t interested in romance. What he _was_ interested in was this song that repeatedly filled his head, and once he looked it up and figured out it was a song he and his soulmate shared, he blocked it out of his life entirely. He didn’t need that. 

Yet here he was, stressed, on the verge of panicking, and it was there to calm his nerves. 

Stupid song. 

It just _had_ to be a catchy tune, too, so it got stuck in his head for hours. 

_No use trying to work now..._

He got up, stretched, and flopped into bed. He knew he needed sleep anyway. He calmed himself down, almost drifting off before his alarm clock rang, drowning out the tune. He groaned. 

_Why. Just... Why._

He jumped out of bed and proceeded to get ready for school. A boring day and then a night of crime-fighting. 

Halfway into the night, he stood outside of Arkham, watching as Cluemaster was shoved into it. Spoiler stood next to him, ecstatic as usual. 

Just then, his phone rang. He retrieved it from his pocket after asking Spoiler to give him a moment. 

**Dick: Timbers, guess who just confirmed their soulmate?**

**Tim: You?**

**Dick: No, I confirmed that years ago. Bruce just confirmed that it’s Selina.**

**Tim: That’s great. I was kind of in the middle of something, though, so I’m going to get back to that.**

**Dick: But this is importaaannttt!!!!**

**Tim: Whatever. Just leave me alone for a bit, okay? You can gossip all you want when I get back.**

**Dick: Fiiiiiiiinee... :(**

**Tim: Bye.**

Tim glared at his phone for a moment. Catwoman. Of course. It couldn’t be anyone _normal_. 

His thoughts cut off abruptly when he heard that song. _His_ song. He looked up to Spoiler dance about, twirling with a bit of impatience. 

“Oh, sorry. Got a bit carried away,” she said with a laugh. “What can I say? It’s catchy.” 

_S***. My soulmate isn’t normal either._

—— **Damian**

Damian had always had this song. It comforted him to hear it. It was nice. It always helped him through the worst punishments, the worst of the times... 

Every time he got into a fight with his father, he’d think of it. 

Every time he felt not good enough, he’d hear it. 

Every time he felt unwanted, he’d listen to it inside his head, wondering if his soulmate would want him. 

Whoever it was would certainly care, right..? They were _soulmates_. (Nevermind that he heard this from Grayson, who was always full of meaningless fantasies.) 

The song reminded him a Beethoven’s _Moonlight Sonata_. It was kind of a mix of the first and third movement. 

Every time it came into his mind, he thought of a beautiful, kind lady. One who’d take him away to someplace nice where no one was hurting and everyone loved each other. One who’d be the love of his life and would always be there to protect him and cherish him. 

What he hadn’t thought was that one day, while they were tied up and unable to escape, he’d hear the person next to him sing it. 

_Jonathan Samuel Kent_ was his soulmate. 

No way would Jon ever know. 

—— **Jason**

Jason had always had this song in his head. He could never get rid of it when he wanted to, and it bothered him nonstop. He’d heard it meant his soulmate was thinking it, singing aloud or in their head. 

Eh, whatever... but why would the d***ed a**hole sing it _ALL. THE. TIME._

It had faded to background noise at this point, not bothering him as much. He’d begun to find it less irritating and more... intriguing. Where did it come from? Who was his soulmate? Why was hearing it in the back of his mind the only thing that snapped him out of ‘pit rage’ immediately? 

Eventually, he fulfilled his expectation of finding his soulmate. Someone to ask about it. 

What wasn’t part of his expectations was that his soulmate was this red-headed teenager who was fiddling with some parts. He heard the song and his attention snapped to the boy, who was too occupied to notice him. 

He hesitated. No one else was really around, so... 

” _Speedy_?” 

“Dare call me that again and I’ll torch you and throw your dismembered body parts off the nearest cliff next to a bay.” 

Now _that_ , he could work with. Maybe soulmates didn’t have to be romantic partners, just... friends. 

_S***, that means I should befriend this kid. F***! Why? Ugh..._

“Wanna help me make a flaming cupcake cannon?” Speedy’s, no _Roy’s_ voice broke through his thoughts. 

_Well f***, guess I’m helping a stranger who’s supposed to be my soulmate create a destructive weapon._

Despite his inner complaints, Jason couldn’t help but smile as he sat down next to Roy. 

“You missed a note.” 

The boy’s attention snapped back to him. 

“This is going to be _AWESOME_!” Roy exclaimed, smiling brightly. 

Jason smirked before pointing out a mistake in the machinery.


	2. What they Hear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soulmate AU where they hear whatever music their significant other hears.
> 
>  **Warning:** Angst, mentions of death

—— **Koriand’r**

The music confused Koriand’r. She’d never heard anything like it on her home planet, yet it filled her ears with such delightful sounds. She’d tried describing it to the others, but none of them heard music like it. 

The style changed every time, and the weird sounds didn’t sound like they all belonged to the same language. Every now and then a tune would repeat itself, until all she heard was familiar tunes. Koriand’r had begun to take it for granted. It would be there almost every day, until it wasn’t. There was no music to be heard, save for the one part of a day where slow, depressing music played and refused to cease. She wondered where the music had gone. It had always been in her life, and without it, there was something shallow. 

It left her in an emotional frenzy, along with all the craziness that happened. Soon, she found herself kicked out of her own planet by her sister. A part of her was comforted. Komand’r birthright was to reign; however, Koriand’r did not know if this would be the best for her planet, considering her sister’s personality not being one fit to rule a planet with kindness and mercy. 

She found herself on a strange planet and found out almost instantaneously for some reason lip contact without consent wasn’t socially acceptable. That confused her. 

Many things about this planet, Earth, confused her, including this boy. 

His name was Richard and he was always cheery. He showed her around, pointing out the best food places and entertainment. He taught her about Earth’s culture and didn’t even seem bothered by her being an alien. In fact, whenever she did something new, he would compliment her about it. Koriand’r found this strange. She found everything about this boy new and weird. His deathlike pale skin even changed different colors! Though for the longest time it seemed like it could only turn pink. Eventually, she found out that it could change green to, right before he removed his lunch over the side of a ship. 

Richard had the weirdest family as well. At first it was just him, but soon, he was joined by another person who went by Timothy. Timothy was extraordinarily intelligent and could even assist her with the strange rectangular prism technology they called cellphones. (She soon found out that Richard could do this too) 

Everything about this planet was new, fascinating, interesting, and exciting, but she missed Tamaran. She would never forget home. 

Her time on Earth entertained her. It distracted her from most worries that crawled into her mind, and she spent her days with a sense of content frivolousness. 

She’d learned a bad side to the planet, too. People here hurt others a lot, similar to what her sister did. They took whatever they wanted for themselves without fear of consequences. There was no guilt in the eyes of most as they stared her down after committing such horrible acts. Richard helped her learn how to handle it. He said something along the lines of hospitalizing criminals, but she wasn’t paying him much attention. 

Soon, he introduced her to music. Immediately there was something familiar. 

“I have done the hearing of the this before,” Koriand’r informed Richard, who was in charge of the music. He immediately changed it to something different, and soon, they’d gone through his entire playlist with her recognizing each of the songs. 

“Where did you hear all of these before?” Richard asked. 

“I heard them on my home planet of Tamaran,” she informed him. “They played in the back of the brain of the mine.” 

“The back of your mind? Like background noise?” 

“Yes! Much like the noises of the background!” 

Richard smirked at this for some reason. “Hang on just a moment.” 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m downloading a new album from a band I like. I haven’t listened to music much since-” he cut off abruptly “nevermind.” 

“You haven’t listened to the music since the what?” Koriand’r questioned, puzzled. 

“It’s nothing. Just- Here, listen.” He started the song. 

“Oh! I have not heard this one before,” she stated as the sound filled the air. 

For some reason, Richard grinned widely. 

“Why are you-” Koriand’r cut off mid-question when he hugged her. 

“Do you have any idea? This means we must be soulmates!” 

“Really? What is a ‘soulmate’? Why does it have so much of the importance?” 

“Here, let’s test it.” 

Richard put the end of a weird string-like device into the cellphone and other two end into his ears and listened. 

Somehow, the same music sounded in Koriand’r’s ears. After a moment, he began to hum along with the music she was hearing. Then, after waiting a moment, he took the ends of the contraption out of his ears and asked if she’d heard anything. 

“Yes, I did hear the music in the back of the mind of the mine. You did the humming along with the it and somehow knew what I was hearing.” 

“You know what this means?” 

“The what?” 

“We were literally made for each other.” 

Koriand’r smiled before initiating the lip contact and saying ‘I already knew the that’. 

—— **Cassandra**

Cassandra had been very confused. Every time she’d hummed to the songs she heard in her head, people would look her way and she’d find herself locked up in her room. 

She escaped from her childhood home on her own. Free now, she hummed along as much as she wanted, even if the music wasn’t there at that time. Somehow, she knew, someone out there was listening to the same song. 

She soon learned from others that she had a soulmate just for her who would be the one hearing every type of music Cass heard. Cass, in response to this, decided to make her own music. She would create something that only she knew, listen to it, and use it to search for her soulmate. 

She was relaxing on a rooftop, listening to the music she’d created. She’d done everything she could to express herself in it, pouring her heart out until there was nothing left to pour. Finding her soulmate had become one of her main goals ever since escaping. She’d listened to this song ten billion times already. 

She just hoped her soulmate had, too. 

“Spoiler! Pay attention!” Robin’s scolding came in the form of a yelled whisper. 

“Sorry; I just have a song stuck in my head.” 

“No. Excuse.” 

“Fine!” 

Cass removed her earbuds. She’d just gotten a new pair from a dollar store recently. They broke too easily. She listened to the sound of fighting. Of course. The sound of someone humming to the tune of her song distracted her from the fight, especially when words joined, starting the chorus of her song. 

“SPOILER.” Robin’s hiss could’ve counted as a yell. 

For the first time in a while, Cass smiled. She’d found her soulmate. Now, all she needed was to actually confirm it. Unsheathing her sword, she jumped over the roof’s edge, landing in the middle of an alleyway where a fight had started. 

Purple and black, bright stoplight colors. Spoiler and Robin, both startled by her sudden appearance. 

Also startled by how quickly and flawlessly she took down the criminals. 

She looked Spoiler straight in the eyes before speaking. 

“ _Soulmate_.” 

It was an immediate attachment, and she only barely heard Robin’s mutter about how everyone else was finding theirs. 

—— **Jason**

Jason enjoyed rock music. Really, he enjoyed any genre that allowed him to get out his anger. He definitely preferred the days when there was heavy metal blasting in the back of his mind rather than the calm, classical music which sometimes played instead. 

It was awkward, hearing music when he knew he was dying. He was _dying_ and his soulmate was somewhere out there, listening to the _Four Seasons_ on piano. It was quite dramatic to sit there bleeding out as _Summer_ played in the background. 

When he awoke again he heard no music. It was rare. In the assassin base, he noticed that it always cut off around a certain time. 

It wasn’t too important. Who cares what your soulmate is doing when you’re an undead monster? 

It didn’t matter. 

Soon a different question took over his mind: WHO THE F*** WAS THIS NEW ROBIN AND WHY HAD BATMAN REPLACED JASON? 

Jason set his mind to figure out who had stolen his place. Every effort went towards revenge, which he achieved. No more Robin. Next, Batman. 

Batman, obviously, was distraught. It made him quite the easy target, but he somehow always got away even without caring about his own life. 

Eventually, Hood found himself standing in front of Batman, gun aimed and ready. They were on a rooftop in Gotham, just like most previous encounters. 

“Jason...” Bruce’s pained voice sounded in the quiet of night. “I’m not going to fight you. In fact-” he pulled back his cowl “-I’ll help you. I’ll just stand here. You can shoot. I’ve got nothing to lose anymore. Just let me do one last thing.” 

“What?” Jason demanded. 

“Can I hug you..?” Bruce asked hesitantly. 

This caught Jason off guard. “F-fine! Whatever! Just don’t expect me to feel remorse when you’re gone.” 

Bruce nodded sadly before walking over and hugging Jason. Jason braced himself. There had to be some trick. 

“Who put you up to this?” Jason wondered. 

“I wanted to hug you, Jason. I wanted to be a better father. I’m sorry I was too late for you. _Am_ too late. I hope you’ll forgive me one day, even though I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” 

“Why are you hugging me?” 

“‘I’m sure Jason could use a few hugs’,” Bruce paused. “‘So hug him, please. Give him one for me and from you.’ Those were the last words I heard Tim speak.” 

“I-what?” 

“You were his role model, Jason. He wanted to be just like you and Richard. He _begged_ to become Robin, forced his way into my heart. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let him. I shouldn’t have endangered another kid. I’m sorry.” 

“Are you sorry he got hurt or that I turned out this bad?” Jason replied, trying to sound nonchalant. It was getting hard. The gun in his hand shook. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for either of you. I should’ve never adopted any kids. I’m a horrible father.” 

Jason surprised himself. The gun clattered onto the roof, and he hugged Bruce in return. 

“It’ll be okay. We’ll go back to normal now, okay, Bruce?” 

“Okay. That sounds... nice.” 

Bruce backed away, wiping away a few stubborn tears. 

It was only when they started to leave when Jason noticed a phone on the roof. Hesitantly, he moved to grab it. He removed a pair earbuds from it and immediately the surrounding area was filled with music. Vivaldi. Summer. The label had been somehow changed to ‘The Night You Died’ and was apparently by ‘I’m sorry’. 

He almost fainted when he learned whose phone it was. 

He had killed his soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be noted, I want to make it clear that the _Four Seasons_ by Vivaldi does _not_ belong to me.


	3. Locks of Hair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soulmate AU where each person has a lock of hair with the natural color and texture of their soulmate.

Richard had always been told that he would have a lock of his soulmate’s hair color and texture. The only problem with that was, well, he didn’t. They always made excuses like ‘you’ll get it when you’re older’ or ‘maybe you’re already as complete as can be’. 

Liars. They didn’t believe a word coming out of their own mouth. Well, too bad for them. He would sneak out whether they like it or not. As long as the circus didn’t move without him (which he doubted it would) he would be fine and perfectly able to return. 

It was way too easy to get all the money he needed. The first stranger he asked for cash gave him a wad of 100’s and asked if it was enough. Even when Richard insisted it was too much, the stranger just told him to keep it and left. 

Richard then found his way into a barber’s shop. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. He’d never done something this rebellious before then. He walked right up to the barber and asked kindly for some bleach and hair dye. Once he was shown the colors, he didn’t shy away from the vivid royal blue. He thanked the barber, paid for it (which costed a lot more than he’d expected) and left. Gothamites lacking questions had definitely played in his favor. Soon, he found himself in front of a mirror, his hair bleached and died around his ears. He had fun with it, even dying the tips of every hair on his head. 

He was soooooo grounded for weeeeeks, but it was worth it. 

He looked amazing with his hair like this. Much more importantly, he could see clearly; his soulmate’s lock was black like his own hair. It was in the most common place for a soulmate’s lock: in front of the left ear. 

He took a moment to admire his own awesomeness before heading back to his parents, who were less than pleased in the morning. 

He _was_ grounded for weeks. He made sure to give them the leftover money he had from it, though. The bribe didn’t work; they were still exasperated. Oops. 

It wasn’t like Richard to go against his parents’ wishes. He always tried his best to please everyone.. when he wasn’t angry. Which was rare. _Had been_ rare. 

Now he was full of anger. Crime-fighting was a way to get that anger out, ever since his parents died. He had been inspired by Batman to crimefight. Batman, Batgirl, and Batboy. 

People had been calling _him_ Robin, probably due to the bright colors. He didn’t mind. What he did mind was Batman, who was now crashing in through the window to his apartment. 

“What do you want now?” Richard asked, his voice laced with irritation as he continued putting on the last bits of his suit (gauntlet, boots, cape) without turning to look at Batman. 

“I’ve already told you; it’s not right for you to be crime-fighting.” 

“Oh please,” Richard replied, turning around as he finished putting on his other gauntlet. “Don’t tell me it’s right for you to be crimefighting. You and your bat-kids. I heard you added another to your crew. What were people calling it, ‘Pup’? _Really_ gonna strike fear into the hearts of your enemies.” 

“ _Fang_ ,” Batman corrected, “and he’s not going to be crimefighting too much.” 

“Oh, great! Glad to know you’re not endangering any animals. That is, other than your two kids.” 

Batman grunted in response, still blocking the window. Was he going to make Richard leave through the _door_? How old-fashioned. 

“I heard you got another one of those, too. What is he called, flittermouse,” Richard paused, “or was it pekapeka?” 

“He hasn’t chosen a name, though I doubt it’ll be either of those,” Batman answered. 

“Aw, bet pekapeka it cute! It suits the little, what, seven-year-old? How did you even find one of those who knows how to fight?” 

“You started when you were eight,” Batman stated. 

“True, but I couldn’t fight like him. He’s much more skilled than I was when I started.” Richard noticed one of his gadgets across the room that he’d been meaning to test in crimefighting, so he walked over to add it to his utility belt. “What? Did you have a kid and train it to crimefight from a young age?” 

Batman hesitated to respond, and before he could speak, Richard cut in instead. 

“Wow, you _paused_. That’s closer to the truth than you want to admit, isn’t it?” 

“No,” Batman disagreed. “He’s from the League of Shadows. He was trained to fight there.” 

“Wow, you kidnapped a kid from _there_? Ra’s is going to kill you.” 

“He’ll try.” 

“Really? He doesn’t care much for his minions. An important one then?” 

Batman seemed like he’d just realized he’d given away more than he wanted. Especially when he abruptly returned to the first topic. 

“Stop. Crimefighting.” 

“Wow, you’re a hard person to read,” Richard added as much sarcasm as he could into his voice. 

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Batman stated as Richard walked over to the door. 

“I know,” Richard replied. He opened the door and left, feeling the one spot of hair that wasn’t dyed blue at all. He’d noticed it was fluffier than the rest of his hair when he forgot to wash it. 

Time for some crimefighting. 

——Later—— 

“Again?” Richard asked, looking with disdain towards the shards of glass. “Do you have any idea how much these windows _cost_?” 

Batman grunted. “You didn’t listen.” 

Richard snorted. “Did you think I would?” 

“Robin, it’s not safe.” 

“Hey! I like the name people have given me, so don’t make me hate it!” 

“That’s not the point-“ 

“You’re lecturing _me_ about safety while you’re fighting crime with a little kid?” 

“You need to stop.” 

“What I need is for you to stop breaking my windows.” 

Batman sighed and retrieved a wad of cash from within his suit. “Will this pay for it?” 

“Probably,” Richard answered, glancing at the clump of 100’s. He hated receiving help from Batman, but he knew better than to refuse. This was Gotham. Survival came before personal distaste. 

“Good, now stop complaining and stop fighting crime.” 

“I’m more concerned about that little kid than I am about myself. What if he encounters Joker? Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn are bad enough now that they’re working together,” Richard choked back a nervous laugh somewhat unsuccessfully. “He’d be crushed by Feline if you ever have to deal with Catwoman. I hear she’s a better swords-woman than Lady Shiva.” 

“ _I’d_ be dealing with Feline.” 

“And she’d _crush_ you. You’re lucky she’s working with a simple thief rather than assassins.” Richard raised his eyebrows at Batman. “You don’t seriously think you can take down the person who escaped a League of Shadows base _on her own_ , facing _Talia al Ghul_ and _Deathstroke_ with nothing but simple assassin armor and a sword?” 

“Gotham rumors exaggerate.” 

“That was the least exaggerated. One version says Lady Shiva and Ra’s were there and the girl fought them in a t-shirt and shorts, though I doubt that’s true with her leaving the base. I don’t think they have t-shirts there.” 

“That’s irrelevant.” 

“Your kid’s future demise _is_. Take him off the streets and maybe I’ll think about it.” 

Batman grunted again. A noncommittal grunt. 

“Well, nice talk. I’ve got crime to fight, and I’m betting you do, too,” Richard said as he left. 

——Laterer—— 

Richard looked at the news. The reporter had begun just after the Breaking News! announcement. It said ‘Batman: Defeated?’. 

“Reports show that Batman and his associates were all found unconscious in an alleyway. Due to the nearby robbery of a popular pet store, we suspect this is the work of Catwoman. While Catwoman and Panther can’t have done it alone, we suspect this it the work of their newest associate, Feline...” 

Looking at the pictures of the screen pop up, Richard couldn’t deny that Feline was the most adorable creature he’d ever seen. Short black hair, a black domino mask, she was wearing a cat-ear headband and a fluffy hoody which was zipped up almost all the way to her neck. Simple black leggings, cute black boots. Wow, she was adorable. He couldn’t help but search for her soulmate lock, only to realize he couldn’t find it, especially with how quickly the picture disappeared, only to be replaced with another. 

The reporter’s words were brought back to his attention. “We also suspect that the train of thefts done by the criminal Bobcat, nicknamed Munchkin, are related to these villains.” 

_Wow_. 

The picture showed a teenage girl dressed in a spotted jacket and simple khaki jeans. There was a knife tucked into her belt, and he guessed a variety of tools within the various jacket pockets. She wore a white domino mask and a white cat-ear headband. 

And she looked pretty short. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be crushing on the villains, but the cats were either overwhelmingly adorable or hot as hell. He’d already established to himself that while Catwoman was decently beautiful, her associates were better. Panther had shown up years ago, four years after he’d started crimefighting. He’d been crimefighting for nine years now, and Panther had been stealing for five. Panther couldn’t be older than sixteen, and Bobcat and Feline looked to be around thirteen or fourteen. 

He couldn’t help it. He looked up pictures of them. Catwoman, Panther, and Feline didn’t seem to have a soulmate lock, so either their soulmates were dead, or they had the same color hair. For some reason, this saddened Richard. Bobcat’s (blonde?) hair was dyed orange, white, brown, and black in places, but he couldn’t help but notice the lock of fluffy black hair right behind her left ear. An unusual place, but it was obviously present. 

Thinking about them, he rubbed his own soulmate lock. 

_Could it mean?_

He cut off the thought. None of them was his soulmate, though it somehow felt like he was lying to himself. 

It didn’t matter anyway. Besides, he shouldn’t be in love with a villain. 

He shouldn’t find any of them attractive. 

——Latererer—— 

Richard had grown so used to piece and quiet that he jumped when his window broke. 

“Oh for crying out loud! This is the-” 

He abruptly stopped when he saw... not Batman. 

“Hello, Robin,” the child greeted. “You’re missing a mask.” 

“Who the f*** are you?” 

“Language. And that’s none of your business.” 

“You just crashed through my window. I think it’s my business.” 

“I’m the newest bat.” 

“Oh, okay. How’s Fang?” 

“He is well. I’m here for a favor.” 

“I’m not doing favors for someone who broke my window.” 

“I’ll fix it. Besides, I hear you’re interested in the Cats.” 

“Where the f*** did you hear that?” 

“Hacked your search history.” 

Richard paused. “They’re villains. I have to keep track of them.” 

“You’ve looked up Two-Face’s, Freeze’s, Joker’s, and Bane’s activity only once each this week. Three times for Poison Ivy and Harley. You’ve looked up the Cats’ activities five times, along with stuff that’s completely unrelated to them.” 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Richard replied nonchalantly. 

“What about this?” the bat-brat asked, touching Richard’s soulmate lock. 

Richard instinctively recoiled. “What about it?” 

“I believe Panther is your soulmate.” 

“I’m not gay!” 

Bat-brat frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that, but your emotional health has nothing to do with-” 

“Do you not know what that means?” 

“Oh, you mean the _other_ gay. From what I hear, you’re bisexual.” 

“What makes you think that?” 

“You’ve dated both boys and girls.” 

“How the f*** do you know that?” 

“I’ve talked to several of your exes.” 

“F***ing stalker.” 

“You’re getting emotional,” Bat-brat said matter-of-factly. 

“Well, yeah. I’m more than a little annoyed that my window is broken again and there’s some brat here lecturing me on my sexuality.” 

“You don’t normally curse around kids,” the brat stated monotonously, “and my name is Shadow.” 

“Ironic.” 

“What?” 

“The favorite of Ra’s al Ghul escapes. What does he call himself? Shadow.” 

“I wasn’t his favorite.” 

“Yeah, right. Okay, I’ll do this favor as long as it doesn’t break my morals on one condition.” 

“And that is?” 

“You, Batman, and crew all leave me alone. I’m fighting crime, not committing crimes.” 

“Deal.” 

Richard rejoiced internally. He’d finally be left alone! 

“Now what’s the favor?” 

“Batman’s out. Batboy’s unavailable and Batgirl’s a prick. Technically, I ‘need to be supervised’ according to Batman’s wishes and I think I can learn from you.” 

“Wow, from what I hear that’s a huge compliment coming from you.” 

“You can do a quadruple flip.” 

“Quintuple,” Richard corrected, “and I’m working on more.” 

“I can only do a simple flip. Double-flips on good days. You’re freakishly flexible and have years of experience. There’s no one else who would-,” Shadow cleared his throat, cutting himself off mid-sentence. “I wouldn’t go to anyone else. You’re the best circus freak in town.” 

“‘Circus freak’ is kind of insulting. ‘Acrobat’ is better.” 

“Batboy’s words, not mine.” 

“He sounds like a jerk.” 

“He is not-!” Shadow cut himself off again. “He is. He was also in a sour mood.” 

“Okay,” Richard replied. “Whatever you say. Sounds like you’ve got a lot of secrets. What’s this about the Cats?” 

Shadow immediately seemed ten times more comfortable. “They’re planning on robbing the theatre. It just finished _Cats_ and is ready to remove the set.” 

“Great! Let’s go get beaten up!” 

Shadow raised an eyebrow. 

“What?” Richard responded. “I doubt Feline is planning on going easy on us.” 

“True.” 

“Well what are we waiting for?” 

“You’re forgetting something.” 

“What?” 

“Mask.” Shadow gestured to the mask Richard had neglected to put on yet. 

“Right.” 

——Laterererer—— 

Richard watched as Panther and Catwoman moved things. Feline and Bobcat were nowhere to be seen, so this would go better than he originally expected. 

He hoped. 

“I’ll take Catwoman,” Shadow said. Richard nodded in response before attacking Panther, a small part of him realizing that this might just be his soulmate. Even Shadow thought so. 

“Blue clashes with your outfit, pretty boy,” Panther said, slashing at Richard with a knife. 

“Maybe I’ll change it,” Richard countered in both ways. “Teal would match your eyes.” 

“Black hair looks good with anything.” 

——Latererererer—— 

Richard had redesigned his outfit. He couldn’t believe himself. It had varying shades of dark gray and black. The blue matched his eyes, forming a v-shape on his chest which went to his shoulders. From there, it went down to his middle and ring fingers in one blue streak on each arm. There was also another v-shape of blue on his back. He had around design of blue around his feet, kind of resembling an odd-shaped boot. 

He’d re-dyed his hair, too. He was deciding between blue or gray for the utility belt when the window broke. Again. As the suit was laid out on his bed, all he had to do to hide it was throw the covers over it. His other suit was already hidden. 

As normal civilian Richard Grayson, he walked over to check and see who’d broken his window this time, wondering what fighting skills would be appropriate for a seventeen-year-old Gothamite. Eighteen-year-old. He’d forgotten about his birthday, which was last month. It had been a year since any of the Bats had disturbed him. 

This time, it wasn’t a Bat, but a group of criminals. Burglars. With knives. And guns. 

Too simple. 

Just as he knocked the last one out, he felt the faint light from outside that was shining on his back waver. He turned. 

“Hey, Batboy,” he greeted. 

Batboy paused, then nodded. “Robin.” 

“Shadow says you’re a jerk. Should I believe him?” 

Batboy flinched. “I don’t think of myself as a jerk... but I probably am.” 

He sighed. His voice was quiet, tired, and full of regret. 

“Why?” 

“It’s nothing.” 

“I don’t-” 

“Really, it’s nothing. You don’t have to worry.” 

“I don’t think you’re a jerk. I don’t think Shadow really thinks so, either.” 

“Oh.” 

“A jerk wouldn’t regret his actions.” 

“...True.” 

“So why are you here?” 

“For them,” Batboy replied, gesturing at the criminals. “Batman wants to talk to you.” 

“Any clue why?” 

“Ask him.” 

Richard sighed. “Let me get dressed.” 

Gray. Gray for the utility belt. 

That would have to wait. He dressed himself in his Robin suit. While he’d updated it three years ago, he was a growing man, and it was wayyy too small. 

“Are you a school student?” The question came to Richard randomly. 

“Er... yeah..?” 

“Cool. I never went. What’s it like?” 

“It’s okay.” 

“What’s your favorite class?” 

“Either Math, Computer Programming, Inventions & Innovations, Forensics, Criminal Science, or regular Science. I like Chemistry, too.” 

“Greattttt,” Richard responded. “How many classes do you have?” 

“Like twenty,” Batboy responded distractedly as he tied up the criminals. “Most of them are online.” 

“Riiiight. How many classes is a normal amount?” 

“Don’t know. Maybe eight.” 

“So, you crimefight, have wayyy too many classes, _and_ have a part-time job?” 

“Uh... yeah?” 

“Huh. Good luck managing your schedule. When do you sleep?” 

As if it was an answer, Batboy had somehow acquired an random cup of coffee. 

“I’m going to go now,” Richard announced. 

“I’ll leave money for the window.” 

“You don’t have to.” 

Batman was standing on a nearby rooftop. Easy to find, not so easy to talk to. 

“What do you want?” 

“I’d like for you to join us.” 

“You can’t stop me from fighting crime, so you want to monitor me? 

“I want you to become one of us. Officially.” 

“Why?” 

“You’re great at crimefighting, you’re very good at getting things done, and Shadow has taken a liking to you.” 

“Really? That’s all?” 

“I think you would be a wonderful addition. Your personality would fit with Batboy’s and Batgirl’s, and Shadow already likes you.” 

“Fine. I’ll join you.” 

Batman... smiled..? Kind of? 

“Which is better, blue or gray?” 

“Gray.” 

“Knew it!” 

This was going to be one of the best choices of his life. 

He was pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might continue this later.
> 
> I’m not sure.


	4. Colorful Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soulmate AU in which their skin changes color when they come into contact with their soulmate.

Richard hadn’t thought much about soulmates. He knew that they could either be the love of your life or your best friend. He knew plenty of people searched their entire life for the day their skin changed at contact. 

Everything he knew about soulmates suddenly resurfaced once he high-fived Kid Flash out of costume (he was still wearing sunglasses, of course). 

“Well that makes a lot of sense,” Conner commented. He, like many in the room, hadn’t found his soulmate yet. 

“Yes!” Wally exclaimed. 

“This means your soulmate isn’t Artemis,” M’gann stated. 

“What? No!” 

“C’mon, Wal, you can still be made for each other,” Richard comforted. 

“But what if she finds her soulmate and hates me?” 

“Everyone already finds you annoying. It wouldn’t be much different. Who are we talking about?” Artemis entered the room. 

“Hiiii Artemis,” Wally said. “We were just talking about this really hot girl in my class.” 

“Uh-huh,” Artemis replied. “And you’re sure she doesn’t already hate you?” 

“No... not really,” Wally sighed. 

“She doesn’t hate you,” Richard comforted. 

“Is she your soulmate?” Artemis asked, eyeing his brightly colored palm. 

“No, that’s Di-Robin here. Robin.” 

“Drobin?” Artemis responded. “Never heard of him.” 

“Robin. Robin’s my soulmate. Which makes a ton of since. Hang on...” 

One super-speed blur later and Robin had a note on his hand. It said ‘I’M A DICK. :P’. 

“Wally-” 

“It’s perfect.” 

“Fix it. Please.” 

The please was an afterthought. 

“I don’t know how!” 

“Well do something about it!” 

“Here-” Wally rubbed the top of Richard’s hand furiously “-better?” 

“Ooh, blue. Nice.” 

Richard’s phone buzzed, informing him about Bruce wanting him home. 

“I should get going,” he announced. 

“Why?” Wally asked. 

“Batman.” 

Richard left to get his things. He could barely hear the conversation. 

“Drobin?” 

“Robin! I swear I said Robin!” 

“Hmm. Something tells me you know his identity.” 

“Well, duh. He’s Robin.” 

“Is that his real name?” 

“Do you know anyone named ‘That’?” 

Robin smiled to himself. He couldn’t wish for a better soulmate. 

—— 

Damian had heard from Richard that when you touched your soulmate, your skin would change a different color when it came in contact. It would right itself after a while. 

Richard had demonstrated it by grabbing his best friend’s hand and letting go only for it to have turned bright orange-ish yellow. His hand had turned blue-green. 

He’d said that it didn’t have to be that you were made to be romantically involved with each other. He and Wally were only best friends, yet they were soulmates. 

Damian had expected to meet an amazing person who could kick a**. What he hadn’t expected to realize his knuckles were green, yellow, and blue after going through a crowded city with Richard. They still had no clue who his soulmate was. 

He noticed his skin had changed again after Jason forced him to go to the library, and again after Tim brought him to meet his friends out-of-Gotham. 

He hadn’t predicted that while Richard’s friends were over, he would have to greet them and shake their hands, and find it out later once Richard noticed and it was already fading. 

He finally found out who it was when training with Richard’s friends. He was being punished for driving a plane into a villain, so he had to stay with them. 

He’d been training with all of them for a while before they stopped. He hadn’t been wearing his Robin costume, instead sticking with a long-sleeved black shirt and black jeans. He didn’t want his costume sweaty this early in the day. 

He noticed his hand brightly colored in a few places. Immediately, he looked around the room. No one had left yet, so it was easy for him to find his soulmate. 

There. 

Raven’s fingertips were colored in blues and purples. It must’ve been from when he flipped her onto the floor, which had happened right before Starfire threw him across the room without remorse. 

A million questions raced through his mind. Should he talk to her? Did it matter? Should he even let her know? What if she hated the idea of having a soulmate? Did she even know what this meant? 

He decided against talking to her about it. Instead, he went to Grayson. 

Grayson hadn’t been training with them, instead he was in his room, solving a case. 

“...Grayson?” 

Grayson looked up from his work. His eyes widened when he saw Damian’s hand. 

“Again..? Do you know who it is?” 

“Roth.” 

Richard blinked. “That makes since.” 

“Why?” 

“You’re so similar.” 

“Tt.” 

“No, really! You should talk to her.” 

“Tt. Fine.” 

So that’s why he showed up to her. 

“...You wanted to talk to me..?” Rachel was confused. 

“You’re my soulmate.” 

—— 

Tim stared at the screen, re-reading the article for the third time without absorbing a word. 

“Timbers?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You should get some rest.” 

“It’s due Friday!” 

“It’s Wednesday!” 

“Still-” 

“That’s it! I’m taking your coffee.” 

“What? No, don’t-” 

Richard did. This was why he was now on his phone, venting to Kon. 

**Tim: He took my coffee!**

**Kon:So? You need to sleep.**

**Tim: I can’t sleep with this on my mind!**

**Kon: You can finish it tomorrow**

**Tim: But it’s due in twi days and I haven’t even started on it!**

**Kon: You can’t even spell two correctly.**

Tim stopped and stared. Conner was right. 

**Tim: Fine! Whatever!**

**Tim: Can we meet up tomorrow?**

**Kon: Sure! What time?**

—‘Tomorrow’— 

Tim and Conner met up at some coffee shop at first, only because Tim had insisted. There was no way he would make the effort to leave the manor on an irregular schedule if he wasn’t getting coffee. 

Even if it was for Kon. 

Whatever the excuse, coffee was _his_. 

They enjoyed a nice conversation, following coffee with a stroll around Happy Harbor. Tim couldn’t be happier, now that he’d finished all of his assignments and the world wasn’t in peril. In fact, it didn’t seem like they would ever be interrup- 

Tim’s phone buzzed. 

He barely glanced at the message before looking up at Kon. 

“Ready for a little action?” 

“You bet.” 

A few moments later, they were fighting a group of people on a rooftop. These people had been experimenting with meta-genes, seeing how many they could add to a person and if they could program certain powers. They were providing difficulties because of self-experimentation, since they now had several activated meta-genes. 

Too many powers = too much trouble. 

At one point, Tim even got flung off the building. Conner had to pull him back onto it, and in that moment Tim noticed: his hand had changed color into a variety of bluish-grays. 

Tim knew immediately this was meant to be. He and Conner were bound by fate, and their lives would forever be intwined. 

...That wouldn’t really matter if they died in two seconds, though.


	5. Inevitable Meetings (Part I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every soulmate pair inevitably meets on the younger one’s eighteenth birthday.

Richard had heard of people who obsessed over preventing their kids from finding their soulmate. They tried this by not telling their kid their birthday or how old they were. You would inevitably meet them on your eighteenth birthday, he’d heard. 

He was from a rich background, being prince of his kingdom. He was almost certain he’d have an arranged marriage, even though his parents cared about him. 

However, his parents never tried to hide his birthday. Every year on the same day in November, people would celebrate his birthday. He would receive presents from his parents, his grandparents, his close friends, some of the servants, and people from all over the kingdom. 

His parents introduced him to his future wife on his eighteenth birthday, but something felt unusual. Or, rather, too usual. 

There was no love at first sight. In fact, this brown-haired overly-perfumed lady with too much makeup repulsed him, as much as he tried to hide it. 

...She was the reason that he’d just jumped out the window, a pitiful attempt to avoid a future with her. He ran all the way to the nearest village, taking a full ten minutes at top speed to completely clear the palace grounds. Twenty minutes to run through the city. Five to reach the village. 

He’d never run for that long before, and he was drenched with sweat. He couldn’t have chosen a worst day to do this. It was the first day of spring, and the coldness of winter was still in the air. He was shivering through his clothes, which were his worst, least formal garments. A plain blue t-shirt and black pants that weren’t even jeans. Someone laughed at him as he entered the city. 

He couldn’t have found himself in a more embarrassing situation. 

“Hey,” he greeted. He’d stopped in front of a person. She was a pretty lady in her mid-twenties with short black hair and a condescending smirk. 

“I don’t have any cash for you,” she stated before continuing her stroll. Right. The upper class lived near the palace. Finding a decent human being would require running more. 

Therefore, he ran. He forced himself to run until his legs were falling off and he couldn’t breathe properly. He flopped onto the grass and fell asleep. It must’ve been only a few minutes until he woke up because the sun was in the same position. 

“You okay?” 

That must’ve been the reason he’d woken up again. There was the most beautiful lady he’d ever seen in his life. She had red hair and blue eyes, and the sight of her amused smile took his breath away and rendered him speechless. 

“H-hey,” he finally choked out with much trouble. 

“Hi,” she greeted. “The name’s Barbara. You still haven’t answered my question.” 

“Oh, right. Yeah, I’m fine,” Richard replied. “Never felt better.” 

He wondered if he’d perfected his commoner speech. 

“If you say so,” she replied. “I saw you faint in the distance. Why were you running?” 

“My responsibilities.” It wasn’t a complete lie. 

She laughed, and he couldn’t resist the grin that snuck its way onto his face. 

“What? Is someone going to kill you?” Barbara joked. 

“Maybe. It might be considered treason.” 

Was it treason to run from the palace just to escape arranged marriage? 

“Really?” Barbara raised her eyebrows. “I hear the eldest prince is missing. What did you do, kidnap him?” 

“Something of the sort... You stole his heart.” The words were out before he could stop himself. 

Barbara laughed again. “What kind of a joke is that?” 

“Lame flirting,” Richard explained. 

Barbara smiled. “The lamest flirting I’ve heard. With looks like yours I doubt you’ve been the one doing the flirting, though.” 

“No, I have not flirted with anyone before now,” Richard confessed, completely missing the point of her comment. 

“Really?” 

“Yes. Your beauty has stunned me into new boundaries.” 

“I expected you to be some worthless pretty boy who flirted with everyone who didn’t flirt with him first.” 

“Sorry to disappoint, ma’am.” 

“You only like me for my looks, huh? Strike one.” 

“I’ve barely seen your personality. Though if you were willing to spare enough time... maybe I would know you better?” 

“Fine. If you want to know me better, come with me.” 

“Where are we going?” Richard asked, standing. 

“To the palace. My carriage is waiting on the road.” 

“Are you royalty or something?” 

“No.” 

“Aw, that’s too bad.” 

“Why?” 

“That rules out me calling you Princess.” 

“And what would I call you? Prince?” 

Richard was pretty sure he visibly flinched. He definitely misstepped. “If you have any mercy please refrain from calling me that.” 

“Okay... why?” 

“It bothers me,” Richard paused. He’d been cursed not to lie (long story), so what wouldn’t be lying? “It reminds me of a past love.” 

“Really? What was she like?” 

“Horrible. Too much perfume. Too much makeup. So much jewelry you’d think she was made of it.” 

“Sounds rich.” 

“Don’t get me started.” 

“Huh.” 

“Where are we going again?” Richard asked as he got into the carriage with her. 

“The palace.” 

_S***._

—At the palace— 

Richard couldn’t stop repeating expletives in his head as they walked through the palace gates. 

He was much more relaxed when they entered the servants’ wing... until he realized Barbara was only dropping off her things to be put in her room. 

“Can you prepare another room, please? If it isn’t too much trouble.” 

“I won’t need to,” the servant replied with a wink. Richard screamed internally. 

“...Okay?” 

They began to walk together, and he noticed the unmistakable path to the throne room. 

_S***. I’m screwed._

“You might have to wait outside for a bit. They don’t let just anyone into the throne room. I’m surprised you’re allowed this far.” 

“R-right,” his voice cracked and wavered as he stumbled over the word. 

_The only room I’m not allowed in is my parents’ private quarters._

The guards asked for her ID when they reached the throne room. Barbara Gordon. From a rich family by the looks of the card. Job in Law enforcement. Hair: Red. Eyes: Blue. Skin: Fair. 

He couldn’t read more before she’d put her ID back into her pocket. 

The guard nodded. “Their majesties are waiting.” 

The guard turned to look at him and paused. He flashed his signature I’m-a-lovable-dorkish-prince-who’ll-rule-the-world-one-day smile at the guard. 

The guard smiled. The other guard, whose name was Duke (if Richard was remembering correctly), sighed and handed a fifty-dollar bill over to the first guard. 

“Told you he wouldn’t last an hour.” 

“Wh-” Richard cut off mid-word. 

“Go on in,” the guards instructed. 

Richard groaned mentally before entering the throne room with Barbara. Barbara seemed more than shock when the reaction from one prince was to yell ‘Richard!’ and jump out of his throne to hug this boy she’d just begun to know. 

“Richard John Grayson-Wayne, where have you been?” 

His father’s disappointed voice made him shudder. 

“Father,” Tim’s voice interrupted, filled with every bit of formality one’s voice could have. “You should be kind to him.” 

Bruce grunted, the only sign that he’d heard Tim. 

“Sorry,” Richard said. 

“Why did you leave?” 

“...I don’t want to marry her.” 

“Then why didn’t you just say so?” Jason’s voice sounded from across the room. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes.” 

“That’s great, but wouldn’t that spark a war?” 

“You have siblings. We can rearrange things.” 

“What? No! I don’t want them to be forced-” 

“It’s fine.” Tim stated comfortingly. “I’m okay with an arranged marriage.” 

“I still don’t want you to have to-” 

“Jason’s the second oldest. He’s second for arranged marriages,” Damian pointed out matter-of-factly. 

“There is no way in hell-” 

“Language!” Richard interrupted. “There are children present.” 

“Tt. I’m not a child.” 

“You’re eight.” 

Bruce cleared his throat. All argument ceased. 

“I will see what I can do. Until then, you’re working with the servants. Do whatever they tell you to, along with whatever your brothers say.” 

“Yes, ‘Your Majesty’.” Richard’s voice was laced with sarcasm. 

“And don’t call me that.” 

“Understood, ‘Your Highness’.” 

Bruce ignored him and turned his attention to a very confused Barbara. 

“What news do you bring?” 

Richard turned to leave. 

“Servant,” Jason hissed quietly. 

“A**hole.” 

“‘There are children present’.” 

“Like you care.” 

“Oh, go clean my room.” 

Richard groaned. Of all the punishments, it had to be this one. 

He barely heard a ‘why’? from Barbara, and listened for Bruce’s answer. 

“You’re his soulmate.” 

“What are you waiting for, Servant Boy?” 

“Shouldn’t you be on your throne?” 

“Shouldn’t you? Oh, wait. I forgot.” 

Richard glared. Jason sighed. 

“Fiiiiiiine.” 

—— 

Servant life wasn’t terrible. The worst of it was Jason, who was only mean to him. So far, he had lasting commands not to talk back and to stop muttering insults under his breath. 

He wondered how long this was going to persist. It had been almost a year and he had a sneaking suspicion Bruce had forgotten about him, now that every negotiation was settled. Tim was to marry the third eldest princess of the Emerald Kingdom (their kingdom was Sapphire). 

Wasn’t it about time Richard got a break? 

The worst of servant life had only started recently. He’d been assigned to work under the worst servant, who dealt out cruel punishments to those who misbehaved, messed up, or those he simply didn’t like. Richard fit all three descriptions and life had become living hell. 

“What’s wrong?” Jason asked one time after calling Richard over to him (Richard was genuinely shocked, as he had been expecting another lame assignment, not a question). 

“Nothing’s wrong,” Richard answered. Nothing, indeed, was wrong. The wrong answer. 

“Really? You’ve been awfully quiet. You’re accepting the tasks I assign without any rebellion and even seem to be enjoying them. Heck, I made you _pick up my socks_ the other day and you didn’t have _any comment_.” 

“I couldn’t. I was too busy holding my breath so I didn’t have to smell your stinky socks,” Richard countered. “So you’ve been concerned. No wonder you’re tasks have gotten increasingly ridiculous.” 

Jason frowned. “You’re not being completely open.” 

“I’m cool with that.” 

“Seriously, Richard. What’s bothering you?” 

“You. Right now.” 

“What do you expect will be bothering you later?” 

“Artemis venting to me about Wally.” 

“Richard...” Jason’s voice was so rarely full of such emotion that Richard was caught off-guard. “It may not seem like it, but I care about you. I know I’m a jerk, but I was hoping you would talk to me. If not me, then talk to Bruce. Or Tim.” 

“Jason...” Richard paused. “You know I can’t lie, remember? So listen to me when I say nothing’s wrong.” 

“Wait, Zee’s spell is still affecting you?” 

“She may have reversed her talking but she didn’t reverse her spell.” 

“Huh. Well, if you _have_ to tell the truth, what’s the story behind that bruise on your wrist?” 

Richard instinctively pulled down his sleeve. 

“Don’t corner me like that,” he whined. 

“I’m talking to Bruce.” 

“Don’t!” 

“Just go talk to Barbara or something. That’s a command.” 

“Fine.” 

At least he didn’t mind that command. 

—Alone in Prince Richard’s Room— 

“It’s really no big deal, B,” Richard insisted. “I’m fine.” 

“Every time someone in this family says that, they’re lying.” 

“...True. How are you?” 

“I’m concerned. My oldest son won’t tell me what’s wrong, my second oldest refuses to talk to me until I get my oldest to tell me what’s wrong, my second youngest hasn’t eaten or slept in five days, my youngest is venting his anger to the garden right now, much to our gardener’s distaste, and my only daughter is still bedridden.” 

“...Do you think Cass is going to be okay?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Cass had been attacked a few weeks ago by a world-famous assassin known as Ra’s al Ghul. It was only thanks to her upbringing that she escaped, certainly going to be scarred. She also certainly wasn’t going to grow back her tongue. She’d been bedridden due to the injuries and some poison they hadn’t found a cure to yet. 

“You’re freed from all responsibilities as a servant and may return to your life as Prince Richard of the Sapphire Kingdom.” 

“Thank you, Bruce.” 

Bruce hugged him. 

It was the highlight of his day. 

—With Jason, later— 

“So are you going to tell me what happened to your wrist?” 

“I guess I can now.” 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t you be able to?” 

“Had to listen to people’s commands. I guess I can stop following them now.” 

“Did someone tell you not to mention it?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, what happened?” 

“We all want to know,” Tim chimed in, surprising Richard. Tim had been quiet until that point. 

“It was a servant. Jack, to be exact.” 

“Oh, _him_ ,” Jason’s voice was full of loathing. “I never liked him. He gave off weird vibes, like, I’m-going-to-beat-you-to-death-with-a-crowbar-in-a-warehouse kind of vibes.” 

“Oddly specific,” Tim remarked. 

“I had a nightmare about it once. Though it wasn’t Jack, it was some weird clown with green hair. Though I guess I didn’t really die in the dream because I woke up in a puddle of glowing green liquid.” 

“You always have the weirdest dreams,” Tim remarked. 

“I digress,” Jason turned his attention to Richard. “What did the creep do to you?” 

“Well...” 

It was a long list. Jack was thrown in the dungeons later that day, but somehow, he’d escaped by the end of the next day. 

—— 

Richard was ecstatic to hear the news: he would finally get some alone time with Barbara. He’d been informed that she was his soulmate, and that his birthday was actually the first day of spring, March 21st. 

He wasn’t sure about the idea of marriage, but he knew that if Barbara were his bride, he wouldn’t mind. 

He couldn’t believe that he’d finally be able to be with his soulmate, after all the struggle. He knew they were perfect for each other.


	6. Inevitable Meetings Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun with this one, so I continued it a little. I hope you have as much fun reading it was I did making it!

Jason hated his life. He hated the servants, especially the former servant, Jack (Alfred was the only servant he liked). Jason hated the palace; it was too cramped and every corner would always be sparkling clean. It hurt his eyes. Jason also hated the food. It was always so carefully prepared, and he hated how not everyone got such delicacies. Heck, not everyone got a meal every day, let alone three. 

Jason wouldn’t run away like Richard had. For some reason, he didn’t even think about it when he was told Bruce had arranged a marriage between him and some foreign princess. From what he’d heard, it was a pretty violent country. 

He could work with that. 

He didn’t know why he greeted every day with such nonchalance. He didn’t know why he didn’t care. 

On August 16th, he figured out why. 

He’d been staring in the mirror, frustrated with his inability to fix his hair properly in accordance with the servants’ standards. He was thinking about how to ditch the gala when he noticed a flicked of movement in the corner of his eye. 

_Nothing’s there,_ he tried to convince himself. 

Something moved again. 

He jumped, but only slightly. Ignoring it, he set about the task of getting a particularly rebellious bit of hair to cooperate. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder and a chill down his spine, along with some kind of warmth in his heart. It was all too confusing, and he just wanted to go to bed, skip the gala, and not have to deal with this problem. 

He dropped the comb when he saw one of his notebooks flip to a clean page. On its own. The air remained completely still, refusing to provide a logical explanation. He paused in his work, watching out of the corner of his eye. He quietly placed the comb on the counter before turning to watch a floating pen write in his notebook. It immediately clattered to the floor. 

He walked over and picked the pen up, returning it to its original spot next to the notebook. A message had been written onto the page in cursive handwriting, which took a moment to decipher. 

_‘Happy Birthday, Jason.’_

He wrote back in his horrible chicken scratch. 

_Who are you?_

The pen moved on its own, writing another message with perfect, graceful movements. 

_‘I’m your soulmate, Jason. You’re able to communicate with me like this because we’re destined to meet. I died when you were seven.’_

“How?” Jason didn’t mean to speak aloud, and he hoped no one outside had heard. He was probably only going insane anyway. There _had_ to be a scientific explanation for this. 

_‘I was shot in the heart. People didn’t like my father, so they took it out on my sister and me.’_

_Why the heart when the lungs would be better?_

_‘Neophytes. They hadn’t killed anyone before then. I guess I’m a testament to their sloppiness.’_

_So how long have you been watching me?_

_‘Off and on ever since I died, so about a decade._

_That’s kind of creepy._

The pencil was in the middle of writing out a response when a servant knocked. 

“Are you ready, sir? The gala will begin in fifteen minutes.” 

“Give me a moment to finish up, please,” Jason replied. He sighed, walking over to the counter and beginning to battle his hair again. 

Fifteen minutes later, he stood in a room full of people, suffering through small talk. Why did he have to suffer through this on his birthday? He stifled several sighs and groans. 

His brothers seemed to be doing okay. Richard was talking to some a prince and a prince who were wearing purple. If Jason remembered correctly, they were from the Alexandrian Kingdom. Damian was talking with some princes about his age, and Tim was holding a conversation with the fifteen-year-old ruling monarch of the Amethyst Kingdom. 

Bruce, of course, was enjoying himself, talking to several Kings and Queens. Jason watched with amusement at the awkwardness between the king of Emerald Kingdom and Bruce. He wouldn’t mind a war, but he doubted a war would be sparked unless Bruce did something stupid. While that happening was entirely possible, he doubted Bruce was that much of an idiot. 

“Hey,” someone greeted him, startling him from his observations. 

“H-hello,” Jason replied, gathering his composure as he turned to face the person who had spoken. She was about his height, maybe a little taller, though she _was_ wearing heals. 

“I’m apparently supposed to ‘get to know’ you, since we’re getting ‘married’ in a few months,” she stated, flipping a lock of her unruly red hair over her shoulder. If she was allowed to have imperfect hair, why should his have to be perfect? 

“Uh,” Jason hesitated. From the sound of it, she didn’t even know about marriage. “Okay.” 

“So, what’s your name?” his fiancée asked. 

“Jason. And yours?” 

“I have never heard of anyone with a last name like that.” 

“Okay, ‘I-have-never-heard-of-anyone-with-a-last-name-like-that.” 

“My name is Artemis.” 

“Oh, okay. My last name is _Todd_ , by the way.” 

“I thought you said it was ‘and yours’. You can’t just change your name every two seconds.” 

Jason sighed. Did his fiancée really have to be an idiot? 

“I can tell you are thinking about me,” Artemis stated, “and you don’t seem to be thinking nice things.” 

“Caught me in the act.” 

“Well if we are to be inwardly insulting each other, I do not see any reason to hide it. You are a puny, pathetic weakling I could beat to a pulp easily.” 

“You want to bet?” 

“I have full faith in myself,” she said, “and full faith in your ability to fail.” 

“Huh. I _thought_ you weren’t very intelligent,” Jason stated. 

“You are very rude,” Artemis said pointedly. “You barely know me, yet you are calling me unintelligent.” 

“And _you’re_ calling _me_ a rude, puny, pathetic weakling.” 

“At least my insults are accurate,” she claimed. “Anyway, I’m going to go tell the others that I wish to have my marriage rearranged. I refuse to marry someone so far below my standards.” 

“What about me? They might reassign both of us to someone worse.” 

“I doubt anyone could be worse than you.” 

“You’re overestimating people,” Jason stated. “You never know how bad they can get.” 

“Why should I listen to you?” 

Jason sighed. “Here, let’s both change and meet on the hill outside. Then we can fight and see who’s better at fighting.” 

“Deal.” 

—Moments Later— 

Jason had never seen the courtyard this messy. It was torn up everywhere from their fight. They both stood panting, too tired to do much, though Artemis had clearly won. 

“Now can I go ditch you for some better fiancé?” 

“If you want, I guess. That’s too bad, though,” Jason answered. “I was starting to like you.” 

“I guess I can try marrying you,” Artemis stated, “but if you cause me any trouble I’m throwing you into the moat.” 

“Understood.” 

“Why doesn’t _your_ castle have a moat?” 

“Oh, please. Bruce is scary enough as it is; if someone were to invade, they’d be surprised.” 

“If he is that scary,” Artemis replied, “why do you have guards?” 

She gestured at the guards who were guarding the main entrance. 

“They’re Bruce’s ‘friends’,” Jason stated. “It’s more like adopted children who aren’t really adopted. See that guard in purple?” 

“Yes. She looks like the ones from the Amethyst Kingdom.” 

“Her name is Steph. She personally redesigned her armor to be purple, and no one stopped her.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes. She also doubles as one of the servants when preparing for parties, especially the ones with explosives and glitter,” Jason elaborated, “but most importantly, she’s our friend.” 

“I understand. What of the other?” 

“Duke? He’s okay. I haven’t talked to him as much. Tim talks about Steph a lot, and that’s how I know about her.” 

“Then your information would be misguided.” 

“You can go talk to her if you want. He guards aren’t supposed to talk, but if you pester her enough, she’ll eventually burst out laughing.” 

“I see. We do not have many guards in my kingdom, though that is because everyone is afraid of us anyway.” 

“I see.” 

—At the End of the Night— 

“You are not bad company,” Artemis stated. 

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me.” 

Artemis huffed. “You are still a stubbornly obnoxious weakling.” 

“And you’re still a heartless a**hole.” 

“I have a heart,” she defended. “I just don’t feel like using my charms on you.” 

“Well, I don’t feel like enchanting you with my awesomeness, either, so we’re even.” 

“I look forward to crushing you another time, but I _am_ still reconsidering our marriage.” 

“Yeah, I’ll talk to my parents, too.” 

“It is settled.” 

— **Timothy** — 

Tim never thought he’d fall in love at first sight, yet here he was. The lady stood in front of him, wearing a simple emerald green dress that only went down to her knees. Judging from her attire, she’d insisted on being able to actually move. Crystal jewelry hung from her neck and her white heels clicked quietly across the floor. 

She smiled, a fake, forced smile, and greeted him. She very obviously was not pleased with the recent events. 

“Hello,” Tim greeted. “I am Prince Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne of the Emerald Kingdom.” 

“Hey,” she replied simply. “I’m Cassie.” 

Tim paused. Such informality rarely showed in the throne room, and it bothered him more than he’d like to admit. “You may call me Tim if you wish.” 

“Sure. ‘Prince Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne of the Emerald Kingdom’ is certainly a mouthful.” 

“‘Princess Cassandra Sandsmark of the Emerald Kingdom’ is certainly less of a mouthful.” 

“Don’t you dare start calling me that,” she warned, “and it’s Themyscira, not the ‘Emerald Kingdom’. I don’t even know why people nicknamed it that.” 

“...Because every kingdom in the area is either actually named after a gemstone or nicknamed after one..?” 

“Hm. What’s here actually called?” 

“Violence Central.” 

“Why?” 

“Have you seen the crime rates? Almost everyone you meet here has committed a crime.” 

“Really? What about you?” 

“Assault.” 

Cassie raised an eyebrow. “Really?” 

“Someone poisoned Cass. I _may_ have gone a little overboard with rage.” 

“Huh. Is Cass okay?” 

“Yeah, she’s a tough one,” Tim said fondly, remembering everything Cass could do. He reminisced about several times when she’d put Jason in his place. 

“So what’s the rest of your family like?” 

Tim smiled, half nervous and half ready. He’d been waiting for that question, but he didn’t know if he’d been dreading it or longing for it. Before taking her to them, he only said one thing. 

“Time for you to meet the animals.” 

— **Cassandra** — 

Cass had never been a fan of romance. She expected to fall in love at first sight like all her dorkish brothers had. ‘Dorkish’ in this case included Richard and Tim. The others could still be dorks, but they weren’t as much. Jason hadn’t fallen in love immediately, but she could see the signs of reluctant affection turning into something more. She wondered how the lady who sometimes watched Jason felt about it. 

For some reason, the guards didn’t notice the lady. They never talked to her, even if they were off shift. When servants passed by, they ignored her presence, only bowing to Jason. 

The lady looked sad, her dull blue eyes full of sadness and stories untold. Her unkempt hair didn’t seem like it had ever been payed proper attention. Her haunted expression told of traumatizing experiences incomprehensible to anyone who hadn’t gone through them. Most worrisome were the wounds that always seemed to be bleeding. They marred her arms and legs, tearing through her outfit and skin. Only a single scratch on her face still bled, but hundreds of scars covered her everywhere. A dark red splatter over her heart indicated a very sloppily-aimed hand had pulled the trigger. 

Cass had never tried to talk to her. The lady hardly seemed real, and she found herself wondering if that lady was truly real. The lady had already proved to be incapable of interacting with the world. No one noticed her. Nothing she touched moved. Occasionally, she would try to give Jason a reassuring pat on the shoulder. This only resulted with him shivering and crossing his arms. Discomfort. 

On a good day, the lady would have a resting smile, and she would laugh at Jason’s antics. She laughed nothing like Jason, who laughed loudly and ‘rudely’. (Cass, personally, liked his laugh. It was unique in a castle like this.) The lady’s laugh seemed quiet, not that Cass could hear it (for some reason). She covered her mouth in a manner that would be viewed as polite, though it didn’t even seem like she meant it to be polite; it was just a habit. 

After all, she hardly acted polite on those days. Whenever someone annoyed Jason, she would stick her tongue out at the person or make an obscene hand gesture, or sometimes she would simply glare. Those were the nice days, though. The days she seemed less haunted. 

Cass knew there was something strange about the person. Something told her she shouldn’t know about the lady, and that she shouldn’t see her, but she did. She wondered if that was the person with whom he would’ve fallen in love upon first meeting her. They certainly seemed fit for each other. Soulmates. 

Cassandra Cain did not believe in soulmates. She did not believe in love at first sight. She _did_ believe in true love, love that wouldn’t hurt and would last forever. 

She’d been skeptical at the beginning, but when her eighteenth birthday passed and she didn’t fall in love, she reconsidered things. She hadn’t even met anyone new on that day. 

However, her first and second view on soulmates were blown away on hot summer day. There he stood, a boy. No, a _man_. He was slightly shorter than average, smaller than her by a little. Muscles rippled underneath her shirt, yet he was fairly skinny. He had reddish-brown skin, about midway between the lightest and darkest skin tones she’d seen. His short, wavy hair framed his face in small ringlets. 

He caught her staring, smiled, and waved. Cass was... helpless. Amazed. She took in every detail she could. His kind, innocent emerald green eyes and the way his smile actually reached them. Dark brown freckles that covered his face. The way he radiated the kind of power that helps people. The power that heals rather than hurts. 

Cass waved back shyly. The boy took this as an invitation to approach her. 

“Hey,” he greeted. “You okay? Your face is red.” 

Cass held back a squeak of embarrassment and instinctively looked away, letting her hair fall into her face. 

“Fine,” she answered, hoping he would understand. 

“Okay,” he said. “It’s Cassandra..?” 

“You know?” Cass looked at him with suspicion. 

“Princess,” he answered simply with a slight bow. “I’m Liron. I prefer Lee.” 

“Cass,” she said, holding out her hand. 

The boy shook it hesitantly. 

“Hesitated,” Cass pointed out, tilting her head to the side. 

“Yes,” Lee confirmed. “‘Violent declaration of war’... somehow.” 

“Tamaran..?” 

“Visited once,” he replied. “Was warned against it.” 

Cass nodded. 

“Sorry,” Lee apologized randomly. “I’m... not very good with words.” 

Cass pointed at herself. “Not good... either.” 

They shared a small smile. Cass felt like she was going to explode. 

Her brothers would definitely hear of this. 

—Later— 

“So you met this guy, and you’re crushing on him,” Jason said skeptically. 

“Hard,” Cass confirmed, her voice almost a whine as she shrank in on herself and fell deeper into the chair. She pulled up her legs onto the seat, clutching them like she’d die if she didn’t. 

“Thoughts?” Richard prompted. 

“We have someone to kidnap-I mean, invited over,” Jason stated. 

Richard nodded snd turned back to Cass. “What’s his name?” 

“No kidnapping.” 

“I won’t,” a small look exchanged between Richard and Jason pointed out the obvious loophole. 

“Liron,” Cass answered, “but Lee.” 

“What?” 

Cass emitted frustration. “Liron but Lee, Cassandra but Cass.” 

“Oh, so his _nickname_ is Lee.” 

Cass nodded. 

That’s all they needed, after her talk of his physical appearance. More like swooning, yet she seemed to hate herself for it. 

(“Don’t need love. Cass strong.) 

(It took a lot of convincing to say that falling in love was okay and perfectly natural.) 

(That didn’t mean he wasn’t getting ~~kidnapped~~ and invitation to the palace ~~dungeons~~.) 

— **Richard, an Hour Later** — 

They’d just ~~kidnapped~~ invited Liron over, but ~~knocking him out~~ _convincing_ him proved to be hard. He regained consciousness quickly, at a frustrating rate. Nevertheless, they were determined kids, and he ended up coming whether he like it or not. 

“So what do you know about Cass?” Richard started bluntly. 

“What?” 

“Do you know her well? How long did you talk? Do you have ill intentions?” 

“Should I murder you right now?” Jason asked. 

“Technically,” Tim corrected, “it would be manslaughter, since we weren’t intending on killing him.” 

“Shut it, Replacement.” 

“Guuuyyyyyyzzzzz,” Richard intervened. 

“Fine!” Jason snapped. “You’re not goin’ to hurt Cass, are you?” (His accent made it sound more like ‘Yer no’ goin’ uh hur’ Cass, are you?’) 

“No!” Lee protested, shaking his head vigorously. “Never hurt anyone.” 

“...Didn’t push _any_ Jimmys over on the playground..?” 

“What’s a playground? Or a...” he paused, “..’Jimmy’?” 

“WHAT?!?” Richard’s yell was almost loud enough to alert the guards through the soundproof walls. “How do you not know what a playground is!?” 

“I say he seems innocent enough.” 

“I say this whole thing is ridiculous.” (Lee turned to look at the voice’s source, a small kid, maybe a preteen.) 

“Oh, can it, Demon Spawn.” 

“You can’t tell me what to do.” 

“That’s the spirit!” Jason exclaimed, clapping Damian on the back hard enough to make him lurch forward slightly. 

_What’ll I do with them..?_ Richard shook his head fondly, with some exasperation. 

“...So can I go now?”


	7. Dreams of Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every dream is a soulmate’s memory.

Tim didn’t know why he woke from nightmares in the middle of every night. He was perfectly okay. He had a fine life and there was no reason for him to have so many nightmares. 

He thought it had something to do with watching the Flying Graysons fall to their deaths. That was the main, most traumatic experience he could recall. Why his dreams had switched he point of view to the poor, helpless eight-year-old Richard Grayson watching his parents fall, he didn’t know. Why the nightmares had plagued him since he was three, he knew not. 

He had good dreams, too. Ones of growing up in the circus, learning how to do flips. It took him fifteen tries to do a flip in real life, and he struggled to make up an excuse to his parents as to how the table had broken. They didn’t even ask about his horribly broken nose and the scratches covering him. He still had scars, but he could do a flip, and he was satisfied... somewhat. He wanted to learn how to do a double flip next. 

He remembered feeling free in the dreams. Feeling important, proud. Feeling like someone believed in him. He had felt like he could truly fly. 

Those were emotions he only knew in the dreams. Outside, the exhilarating feeling of flying through the air felt like a joke. He’d never be truly free from his responsibilities. 

He’d never leave his home until it was too late. Too late for him to live a happy, successful life. He’d already know too much. 

Ignorance is bliss. Well, he wasn’t ignorant. 

He wasn’t blissful either. 

Yet, in the dreams, he remembered freedom, and he clung to it like a lifeline, and maybe it sort of was. He was already suffering from depression, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the suicidal thoughts got worse. 

— **Dream**

He was running over the rooftops, swift as a bullet, flipping and skipping whenever he saw fit. 

“Where are the criminals now? What are we dealing with next?” Tim asked excitedly, except that it wasn’t Tim. It was Robin. He was _Robin_. 

“It seems like just a simple mugging.” 

“Aw... do they at least have guns?” 

“Yes. We’re being _careful_. No dangerous stunts that will get you killed, okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry.” 

They jumped into action, knocking the people out one by two. Dick was focused on one, so focused he didn’t notice the person’s aim, but he _did_ notice the pain of a bullet embedding itself into him. 

“Robin!” 

It wasn’t his name... He knew his name wasn’t Robin... Was it Dick? That felt right... He would wake up in his bed or the Batcave... 

Everything would be fine; Batman would save him. 

— **Dream End**

Tom woke up in his own bed, but from what he’d felt in his dream, he knew it should’ve felt more welcoming. 

Shoving it aside, he began his usual routine, vaguely surprised when a warm breakfast lay waiting on the table, but stupidly disappointed when he learned his parents were still halfway across the world. He stifled a sigh (sighing would be considered rude) and continued his daily routine, altering it slightly to include breakfast. 

The day was bland as ever. He didn’t enjoy the daytime nearly as much as he enjoyed the nighttime. During the day, he was Timothy Jackson Drake, heir to Drake Industries and only son of Jack and Janet Drake; during the night, he was Tim Drake, superhero enthusiast and pretty-acceptable photographer, his own person. 

Tim Drake was certainly his preference. He snuck out the window quietly, not that anyone would care even if he left through the front door. If his parents or caretakers knew he snuck out, they’d be more concerned with the grass he stepped on and their reputation than about him. 

Even if the grass would regrow and the rumors would blow over eventually. Even if he could be kidnapped and held for ransom (his parents would be more concerned with potentially lost money). Even if he could be caught in chaos of one of the crazies, permanently maimed, or killed. They’d be more concerned about him leaving fingerprints on the windows or the possibility of him spreading falsehoods about them. Or worse, _truths_. 

His mind whirring with years of self-destructive thoughts and self-hate, he slipped out of the manor grounds. If he wasn’t important, then at least Robin was. He could always go to Robin and Batman; they were the highlights of his days. 

Sadly, he didn’t find Robin that night. Batman was harder to photograph and harder to find, though. Crime happened everywhere, and when Batman patrolled, all Tim had to do was wait in a spot for a while, and Batman would pass eventually. From there, it was an entertaining game of chase-the-Bat. 

By the middle of the night, he lay down in bed, satisfied with the twenty successful photos he’d taken. Tonight was successful, but it wouldn’t make up for tomorrow if he didn’t get enough sleep. 

Soon, slumber took ahold of him, and he fell into a dream. 

— **Dream**

“FIRED!?” Wally’s voice filled the room. Wally, also known as Kid Flash, had been his best friend for the longest time, and he was definitely the first to be informed. 

“Yes,” Richard confirmed, slumping down into a chair with a dramatic sigh. 

“Why?” 

“Guess I just wasn’t good enough. Messed up too many times.” 

“What’ll you do now?” 

“Don’t know,” he answered, confusion, disappointment, depression, and helplessness overcoming the rage he felt towards Bruce. “I’m not going to stop helping people, though. I thought maybe, I could become a cop...” 

“You’d make a great cop,” Wally stated with absolute confidence. He was always there to support Richard in the darkest times. 

“Thanks,” Richard replied. “Maybe I’ll work in Blüdhaven.” 

“I’m sure you’ll do good with whatever you do,” Wally comforted, sitting down next to Richard. “For now, let’s get your mind off of it. Take a break. Do something fun.” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

“What do you want to do?” 

“For now, can we just... watch a movie or something?” 

Wally smiled. “Sure! I’ll go get some buttered popcorn, candy, and drinks.” 

“That doesn’t sound good for-” 

“Oh, loosen up a little. It’s just one movie. I won’t even force you to eat to much.” 

“Okay,” Richard reluctantly agreed, “fine.” 

“Great!” 

Soon, they were sitting side-by-side in a blanket, snacks easily within arm’s reach and the TV in front of them playing no movie in particular. 

“Wally?” 

“Huh?” 

“You’re the best.” 

Wally grinned happily. “I know.” 

— **Dream End**

Tim awoke drowsily, unlike most of the times he’d woken up from dreams. This one wasn’t particularly a nightmare, though. There hadn’t been an abrupt part to end on, so that’s probably why he hadn’t woken up out of breath. 

It took a moment for him to remember that he was Timothy Drake, because for some reason, he still felt a little like Richard Grayson. 

Maybe feeling a little Richard-like was why he found himself upside-down in a chair, reading one of the books that had been assigned to him. He did know that a Wayne gala was happening tonight, and he should be working on keeping his posture perfect and practicing proper etiquette, but he didn’t feel like it, so for some reason, he listened to his emotions and didn’t. 

Maybe that was a Richard thing, too, ‘cause it certainly wasn’t a Timothy Jackson Drake thing. 

— **Later**

When he arrived at the gala, dressed formally and all proper etiquette drilled into his brain, the first thing he did was scan the room for Richard. He didn’t know why, but for some reason, he felt like he should be cheering up Richard. He felt so close to him, yet they’d only met at galas... 

He wondered if Richard felt close to him. There was no reason. Mainly everything Tim knew about him came from his dreams, which weren’t reliable sources. 

They would make Bruce Batman. 

That didn’t make sense... unless... 

Batman was a billionaire, not doubt, and a rich one, too. Bruce was definitely rich. Batman usually only showed during night; Bruce had a day job. Bruce lived in a secluded mansion he never let people enter unless they were his close friends; Batman was probably centered at his home. 

Robin could do a quadruple flip, which was a rare trick that only experts, like Richard, could do. Richard had been adopted by Bruce about the same time as Robin emerged. 

They both had motivation to prevent crime in Gotham, from their parents’ deaths. And... 

_There’s no way..._

Robin, if his dreams served him right, had been fired. Richard wasn’t at the gala. 

— 

From the gala onwards, it was all too easy to find every single corresponding detail. Bruce Wayne adopts new kid. Robin reemerges, but clearly different. Nightwing emerges in Blüdhaven, where Richard was a cop. Robin is in a warehouse which happened to explode. Jason Todd died under mysterious circumstances. 

Robin disappeared. 

Too. much. evidence. 

Too much for anything but it to be the truth. 

Batman got more violent without a Robin as Bruce Wayne was clearly grieving. 

Tim _had_ to do something, so... 

The door he’d just knocked on opened. 

“Uh... hi, kiddo.” 

“Richard, I need your help.” 

— **Moments Later**

“I’m not going back to Bruce.” 

“But Batman needs a Robin!” 

“As much as I admire you, Tim, I’m not doing a favor like this. It’s too much. We barely even know each other; you don’t have a clue how hard I’ve been trying to avoid Bruce. You-” 

“I know.” 

“What?” 

“I see you in my dreams.” 

“How?” 

“I don’t know. It bothers me, but...” Tim looked Richard in the eyes, “I just can. I’m not lying about it. I think that whatever I dream is your memories.” 

“That’s... strange.” 

“I know. I figured you wouldn’t believe-” 

“I see you in my dreams, too.” 

Silence followed as they stared at each other. 

Tim sighed. “I guess there’s no convincing you.” 

“There isn’t.” 

“Well... here’s my personal number, if you ever want to contact me. I get the feeling you will.” 

“What’s that supposed to-” 

“Bye.” 

Tim closed the door, leaving Richard there in confusion. 

— **A few Mornings Later**

As expected, Tim dreamed of that conversation from Richard’s point of view. Soon after, he received an expected message from Richard. 

**Dick: You can’t do that.**

**Tim: I can and I will if you won’t.**

**Dick: It’s too dangerous.**

**Tim: I’ll be fine.**

**Dick: You’re a kid.**

**Tim: So were you.**

**Dick: That doesn’t make it right!**

**Tim: Try to stop me.**

**Dick: I’m trying right now.**

**Tim: You’re going to have to try harder than that. I’m on my way to Wayne Manor, for the fifth time this week. From what I hear, you’re locked out of the jet. Good luck making it here before I convince Bruce.**

**Dick: Tim, you can’t-**

Tim stopped reading the message and put his phone in his pocket, acutely aware of it vibrating several times. He pressed the button outside Wayne Manor. 

“It’s Tim.” 

“Hello, Master Tim. Shall I alert Bruce about your arrival?” 

“Yes, please,” Tim answered. “Oh, and... could you bake cookies and prepare coffee as well? I’m planning on having a long talk with Bruce.” 

“Yes, Master Tim. Will that be all?” 

“Yeah, I think. Thanks, Alfred.” 

“You’re very welcome.” 

Alfred let Tim into the manor and led him to a room where Bruce was waiting on a couch. 

“Hey, Bruce,” Tim greeted. 

“For the last time, I’m not making you Robin,” Bruce stated. 

“Good. It will be the last time you say it.” 

— 

That evening, Richard arrived as soon as possible after work, only to find that Tim and Bruce had departed early on their first patrol as Batman and Robin. 

A coffee cup and his trust completely crushed, Richard rushed to join them as Nightwing. However, Tim refused to quit being Robin. He painted a perfect picture of every argument Richard could think of before tearing the whole picture into pieces. 

Richard, having completely lost the argument, was forced to join them on patrol to ensure Tim’s safety. This continued until Richard trusted that Tim would be alright, which took a while. 

They were fine, until the Red Hood showed himself. 

That’s when the fun truly began.


	8. Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They see their soulmate’s eyes for a whole minute every month.

Roy had always questioned the eyes he saw. A minute a month, the world would darken, and only the eyes remained. He’d always thought it weird, wondering whether or not he was insane. 

When he was adopted by Oliver Queen, also known as Green Arrow, he decided that it was usual. Roy didn’t go up to him and ask, but he did notice how Oliver would stop for exactly a minute every month. This phenomenon could also be observed in others’ actions. 

Roy eventually learned from watching Black Canary and Green Arrow that it always happened at the same time for them. They’d noticed his curiosity at some point and explained it to him, saying that they were soulmates and it was normal. Roy almost barfed at their romantic nonsense. 

Blech. 

When he woke up after eight years, he became extremely angry, and he no longer cared about things as much. He didn’t remember anything else from his coma, yet... the eyes stayed. He remembered seeing them. Blue. A calming color. He remembered seeing them glazed, over lifeless, but... the next minute he remembered from those eight years, they were alive and bright. Green. Angry. 

He decided that this _definitely_ wasn’t normal, and that no one else needed to know, which was the case for a while. 

— **Jason** — 

Jason didn’t know how to feel. He’d always been able to see unfocused, unseeing eyes (Well, not always. Sometimes they’d been simply a piercing green). These days, however, they were lifelike again. 

He’d never have guessed beforehand that those were the eyes of the original Roy Harper. He never would’ve known if Richard hadn’t been so obsessively excited that Roy was alive again. Richard always ticked him off with his boundless energy, but Jason assumed that was just a ‘pit madness’ thing. It’d been hard adjusting to normal life, but not impossible. He wouldn’t ever admit it, but having his siblings around always helped with it. 

_Maybe not always,_ he thought as he tripped Richard down the stairs. He’d get in trouble for it, but Richard was being annoying, and he acted instinctively. Besides, Richard turned out fine (sadly). 

He didn’t _actually_ want to hurt Richard, but his foot acted mostly of his own accord, and he knew Richard could catch himself. 

(Richard did slow his descent, but he made sure to dramatically flop onto the floor at the end.) 

If it had been anyone other than Jason who’d tripped Richard, they’d have a bullet through their head before they could even protest. Jason was overly protective like that. Since he was overly protective of all his siblings, the worst any of his brothers would get for tripping Richard would be getting tripped by Jason, or he’d simply shoot in their general direction. Cass... wouldn’t even have to be bothered by him; she was too nice to trip any of her siblings. 

He wasn’t sure he’d even be able to hurt Alfred in any way, shape, or form even if he _wanted_ to hurt him. Bruce... would get no mercy. 

What did Jason get for tripping his brothers? A little guilt, their mistrust, and an amusing picture in his mind that might even end up on camera. 

Blackmail material for some of them. 

His siblings had helped him in ways he couldn’t even have imagined. He had to give them credit for that. 

He still had ‘pit madness’ moments where he’d want to kill them all. The rage he’d always felt was still closer to the surface of his emotions. He still found many of the things they said or did annoying, but he loved them. He loved them and cherished them; it was just hard to express. 

How do you, if you’ve rarely been shown love, show love to people who’ll doubt your words the second you say ‘I love you’? 

How do you bring yourself to show affection when the guilt of _literally trying to kill_ the person is weighing on your conscience? 

He’d never be able to do it, but then again... he could at least take care of them in his own way. 

“Tim?” Jason said. Tim was at his computer, which he hadn’t been off of since the morning before. 

“Yeah?” Tim answered, not looking away from the screen. 

“If you don’t get something to eat and go to sleep right now, I’m shooting your computer, drugging your coffee, and showing everyone that video of you tripping off the building last Thursday.” 

“Hm...” Tim’s voice trailed off and didn’t give a real answer, so Jason shut the computer roughly, almost catching Tim’s fingers. 

“ _You. need. to. sleep._ ” Jason stated. 

“But-!” 

“No ‘but’s.” 

“My schoolwork-” 

“Skip patrol to work on it if you need to.” 

“But I’ll be a week behind if I don’t finish that all-” 

“A week behind being a month ahead?” 

“...Yes...” 

“Got to sleep.” 

“Bu-” 

“Go. to. sleep.” 

Tim sighed and got up from the chair. 

“I made you something to eat, too.” 

“What?” 

“Peanut butter,” Jason joked. Tim seemed to tired to register that as he replied. 

“Jason I can’t-” 

“Don’t worry. I didn’t make anything with peanuts in it,” he smirked. “I know you’re allergic.” 

“...Okay.” 

Tim not asking how he knew was a testament to his tiredness. Jason watched as Tim wolfed down the food like he hadn’t eaten in days... which was true. 

“Wow, that good?” Jason asked. 

“...Just hungry. Your cooking sucks.” 

“It does _not_ and you know it!” 

Tim giggled a little. 

_I swear, he always starts acting like a kid when he’s tired,_ Jason thought to himself as he watched in amusement at Tim’s attempts at climbing the stairs. 

“Wow, Timbo, how long has it been since you slept?” Richard questioned. 

“Mmph.” 

“You should get some rest too,” Jason advised. 

“After I finish this case.” 

“Okay.” 

“How come _he_ gets to solve another case and I get thrown in bed immediately?” Tim asked, betrayal filling his eyes. 

“Because Alfred made him sleep two days ago. You know, after he’d gone a few days without it? Like you have now?” 

“‘S not fair,” Tim complained tiredly. 

“Welcome to life.” 

“I don’ wanna liiiiive.” 

“Are you five?” 

“Internally.” 

“Seriously, Tim?” 

“Don’ wanna sleeeeeeeep.” 

“Are you a drunk five-year-old?” 

“No.” (The ‘no’ was drawn out for longer than I’m willing to type or make people read.) 

“Go to sleep.” 

Tim rubbed sleep out of his eyes as Jason pushed him slowly towards the bed. 

“This isn’t my room,” Tim observed. 

“No, it isn’t. Your room has too many distractions. Now deal with it.” 

“But the guest bedrooms are always too nice,” Tim protested, “and sleeping in it would put more work on-” 

“I’ll clean it after you if you’re so concerned. Now _sleep_.” 

“Jason..?” Tim’s voice grew faint. 

“Sor’” (Sorry) Jason managed to reply before the world fell out from underneath his feet. 

The eyes, green and piercing filled his vision. They seemed... strange. Something was different about them. 

_Is my soulmate... doing_ drugs? 

“Jason!?” Tim’s voice filled his ears, snapping him back to reality. 

“Huh?” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Just saw my soulmate’s eyes again.” 

“Are they as beautiful as yours?” 

“Seriously, Tim?” 

“I like the teal.” 

“Yes, yes. They’re beautiful. Whatever.” Jason’s voice was mocking, showing clearly that he didn’t mean it. 

“You aren’t looking forward to meeting your soulmate, are you?” 

“That doesn’t matter.” 

“Okay...” 

“So... did you need something?” 

Tim cleared his voice and began to speak in a playful imitation of Damian’s voice. “I need your assistance being tucked in, and I require a bedtime story.” 

“Seriously, Tim?” 

Tim pouted. Jason continued to look at him questioningly. 

“You’re judging me, aren’t you?” Tim asked. The statement punched Jason in the gut harder than Superman could. 

“No, no. I’ll read you a bedtime story.” 

“Thank you,” Tim said, looking at him with those sincere, intelligent eyes, and for a moment, Jason wished they were soulmates. 

“Any preference?” 

“Not horror.” 

“Okay, okay,” Jason replied. He came back with a book full of a collection of bedtime stories, picked the first story he opened it to, and read. When he was done, Tim looked at him. 

“Could you sing a lullaby, too?” 

“Do you want an avalanche?” 

“You’re better at singing than you think.” 

“Wait, what?” 

“I’m a creepy stalker, remember?” 

“...True.” 

Jason complied, yet again. Man, he’d do anything for Tim. Anything for his brothers. (Other than not tripping them down the stairs. He’d noticed how Richard had backed away from them.) 

“A goodnight kiss, too?” 

“When does it end?” Jason asked, kissing Tim on the forehead. 

“Now,” Tim said. “Sorry, I just... never had a childhood.” 

Jason sighed. “I understand. Good night.” 

“It’s day.” 

“Go to sleep.” 

Tim laughed. “I’ll try, but the horses don’t like me.” 

Jason pondered that one outside the door for a good few minutes. Tim talked weirdly sometimes, even though he was perfectly capable of communicating like a normal person. Maybe it was a part of relishing the freedom which came with not having to talk formally all the time. 

— **Roy** — 

**Some Time Later**

Roy struggled. A lot. He fought the drugs, he really did, but it was a struggle. He fought everything life threw at him, which wasn’t necessarily good, since he fought against the blessings, too. 

Now, he fought against his soulmate’s arrival, which actually went pretty smoothly. Jason Todd didn’t push to stay around him, and Jason listened to Roy when he was told to ‘leave him the fudge alone’. (The last thing he’d heard from Jason was ‘why do you curse like that?’, which had received a _very_ friendly ‘fudge off’. 

Roy didn’t care about finding his soulmate. It didn’t matter as long as he had friends, and Hood and Star were the best friends he could ever have. 

He started doubting that friendship after several months not knowing Hood’s real name. (Kori was a little too happy to share, and they sometimes had to shut her up before it got them in trouble.) For whatever reason, Hood wasn’t too keen on sharing many things about his past. One thing Roy knew was that Hood had worked for Batman at some point, and that ended with him thinking of B as a manipulative a**hole who didn’t care about others and failed at life. 

Seriously, the rants got crazy. 

Roy found amusement with Hood’s rants, and sometimes even managed to strangle a laugh from Hood. Those were the best moments, where they could bond over their shared dislike for mentors. The moments when Kori would bring them snacks and they’d sit down, laughing, joking, and smiling, just the three of them. 

Sometimes those moments didn’t start in a rant. Roy preferred it that way, when it would start with someone talking about something else. One particularly funny moment started when Hood showed up and promptly claimed that his brother was five. 

“I thought all your brothers were past five,” Roy commented. 

“I shall have to do the wishing of the joyous birthday!” Kori exclaimed. 

“No, no. That’s not what I meant,” Hood said. “It’s Red Robin. He was acting like a little kid.” 

“Really? What’d he do?” Roy asked. 

“Well, he hadn’t slept in several days...” 

Hood launched off into a story about putting his little brother to sleep. The process seemed to have been entertaining for Hood, as he force-fed Red and practically dragged him up the stairs. The first part didn’t get many laughs, except when he said Red insulted his cooking skills. The second part, after Hood had mentioned going upstairs, received much amusement and many laughs. 

“Wait, wait, wait, so you _actually_ gave your brother a good night kiss?” 

“Yep.” 

“I can’t even imagine you doing that,” Roy stated. 

“I cannot do the imagining either,” Kori contributed. 

“How did he actually manage to get you to do that, though?” 

“You try saying ‘no’ to him!” Hood said defensively. “Besides, it was to get him to sleep, which can be nearly impossible.” 

Kori snickered. “It is still the funny.” 

“Hood, I know I just caused you horrors one can only imagine, now can you give me a goodnight kiss, too?” 

“No.” 

“Aw, Hood,” Roy complained, “why ever not?” 

“The best you’re getting is a good night hit to the back of the head.” 

“Well fine then.” 

“I can give you the kiss of the goodnight,” Kori offered. 

“No thanks, Kori.” 

Those were the moments that made it to Roy’s fondest memories. 

It became harder to laugh with them after a while. The curiosity about Hood conquered his mind, until at one point, he couldn’t stand it anymore. 

“Hood?” Roy said. They were alone someplace outside a forest, at the end of a safer mission that wouldn’t get them killed. 

“Yeah?” 

“You don’t have to answer, but...” Roy glanced at him, fully aware of the nervousness that filled his voice. Distrust always threatened to tear friendships apart. 

“What is it?” 

“Who are you? Like, under the hood.” 

“If I tell you, you’ll just push me away.” 

“What? Are you Oliver or something?” Roy joked. 

“Uh, yeah, totally. I’m your adoptive father who’s suddenly acquired Nightwing, Red Robin, Orphan, and Robin as siblings.” 

“Fair point.” 

“But, still... I want to know. You can trust me.” 

“But if you know who I am, you’ll just hate me again.” 

“Hood, after all we’ve been through together, I don’t think I could hate you.” 

“Okay...” 

“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.” 

“I-it’s fine, just, please don’t hate me..?” 

“I won’t.” 

Hood hesitated, and then took off the helmet. He’d done it a few times before, only to reveal a domino mask. This time, though, he took off _that_ mask, too. 

“...Jason.” 

Jason looked away, not making eye contact. 

“Sor’, Roy, I shoulda told-” 

Roy cut him off with a hug, and after a moment, Jason hesitantly hugged him in return. 

“I could never hate you, Jason,” Roy promised. “I never did in the first place.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, that’s... that’s what bothered me. Not being able to force myself to hate a stranger.” 

“I get it,” Jason replied. 

“So... can we just continue the friendship we have?” 

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” 

“Great!” 

“Are you doing the act of the group hugging without the me?” Kori asked. 

“You can join,” Roy invited. 

“Wait, Kor-” 

Kori hugged them both, knocking the air our of them. 

“I think I cracked a rib,” Jason choked out. 

“Well I think I broke a heart,” Roy stated. 

“You two need to stop doing the things like the that,” Kori stated. 

Roy smiled, and noticed the amused smirk on Jason’s face. Maybe they both could start laughing more genuinely now. He knew that it was these kinds of things he’d never give up and never forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I’m not sure if this is as good as the others. I didn’t particularly care for the prompt, but I decided to post it anyway.


	9. Buttons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Press the button, and it will count down until you meet your soulmate. However, you have several soulmates to meet.

Bruce hadn’t had much interest in soulmates. They were an okay idea, but he was comfortable with only his parents and himself. Of course, their butler was awesome, too. Alfred could do _everything_ , and he was more than just a personal butler. 

Everything in his fantasy world came crashing down when his parents were murdered before his eyes. He couldn’t cope. He couldn’t handle life. He blamed the Court of Owls for a while, and even killed an owl in spite, which he later regretted. 

After a while of moping, he decided he would do something about it. He wanted to fix Gotham. He wanted to rid it of crime. He wanted to scare the wits out of anyone who saw him. Most of all, he wanted to prevent anyone from ever having to experience something like that again. 

Therefore, he would crimefight. He learned every last technique he could. He improved his martial arts in any way possible (there were many ways, since he’d not had much experience beforehand). He created a suit that would help him, basing it off of something of which he himself was afraid: bats. 

Thus, Batman was born. 

It took him a while to get used to things. It definitely did. Eventually, he got the hang of it, but things were still rocky and he got involved with and warned by the police more frequently than he would’ve liked. 

After a while of struggling, he came up with an ingenious idea: he would get a partner. Someone who shared the same passion as he did. Someone who wanted to change the world as much as him. 

What better choice than his soulmate? 

He pressed the button, looked at the timer, and sighed. What would he do while he was waiting for a whole FOUR YEARS? 

He was less than pleased. 

— **Four Years Later** — 

He’d been crimefighting for five years before he attended the very unfortunate circus act that led to the death of Richard’s parents. 

He went home that day after talking to the boy who’d just seen his parents fall to their deaths, and he noticed that the timer had stopped. He knew immediately what to do. 

— **Some Time Later** — 

He’d trained Richard for quite a while. Richard who didn’t know they were soulmates. Bruce wondered if Richard even knew what a soulmate was. 

A soulmate is someone with whom you feel an instant connection. You complete each other’s lives in some way, maybe even flipping the whole thing upside-down. 

Soulmates, contrary to many popular beliefs, didn’t have to be the person you wanted to marry. They didn’t have to be the love of your life. 

Certainly, no one person had only one soulmate. Each individual had several people out there who were soulmates. Soulmates were decided based on the souls of the people in question. It was likely that people who were either basically the same or people who complemented each other would be soulmates. 

It took a while, but Bruce eventually realized how much influence Richard had over him. Bruce believed the Richard had a generally good impact on his life. As for his impact in Richard’s... he wondered if he’d done the right thing. 

Richard was a light, a beacon of hope for others. He shined like the stars, with stardust in his hair and a twinkle in his eye. He was like a diamond, beautiful and valuable. His smile lit the room, and his tears caused rain. 

Richard was Bruce’s everything. He was the world, the galaxy. Bruce tried his hardest not to lose this light, this _diamond_... 

They started arguing after a while. Eventually, they argued enough that Richard left. Bruce made him leave the suit in an attempt to prevent him from getting hurt, not that it would work. Next thing he knew, Richard was in a particularly undesirable job (for Bruce) as a police officer in Blüdhaven, where who knows what could happen. A new vigilante, Nightwing, appeared around the same time, and Bruce had no trouble figuring out Nightwing’s identity. 

He was concerned about Richard, but he knew that Richard would never accept his help now. 

No one would want to help a Batman who was spiraling out of control. After a while it hit him. He _was_ spiraling out of control, getting to violent, and causing a little too much fear and agony for criminals. The civilians began to fear him, too, not wanting to be involved with the monster that beat criminals almost dead and harbored no mercy for the ones that begged him to stop. 

Having realized his lack of self-control, he began searching for a way to help himself. He pondered over it. How could he tame the monster in himself if he himself was the monster? 

After that, a thought came to him. It was a silly thought, really, but anything was worth a shot at this point. He wanted to return to protecting Gotham, rather than becoming more like the monster criminals saw. 

In a moment of sheer hope, he pressed the button. 

— **Some Time Later** — 

Batman parked the Batmobile in an alleyway, ignoring the memories Crime Alley pressured him to remember. He preferred not to relive trauma in the middle of patrol, so he removed himself from there as quickly as possible. 

He took a while to deal with the criminals. It didn’t matter too much in the end, but he’d rather it have taken less time, mostly because of the state of his car when he returned. 

Three of its tires were missing, and a boy in a red hoodie was removing the last tire. 

Batman cleared his throat. 

The boy started and looked at him with fear and fire in his eyes. Something about the boy’s determined spark reminded Batman of himself. 

“You do realize **_that’s_** the **_Batmobile_** , right?” 

“ _Duh_. You _do_ realize you **_parked_** you car in **_Crime Alley_** , right?” 

Then Batman got hit with a tire iron. 

Well, Batman was fully aware that he wasn’t normal. Not to conform with any sense of normalcy, he took Jason to get some food. They got to know each other, and Batman happened to notice that the timer (which he had incorporated into his suit as a watch-like thing) had stopped. 

Soon, Bruce Wayne had another kid and Batman had a new Robin. 

— **Some Time Later** — 

Richard received the news soon, and he didn’t seem too peachy when he showed up at Wayne Manor. He and Bruce got into an argument, which seemed to happened every time they stayed in the same room for too long. 

Poor lil’ Jason heard it all, not that he acted like he knew. He just simply tried to lift Bruce’s spirits, not that it worked too well. 

Jason wasn’t like Richard. He was more like a bead that refused to fit on a string, like titanium, tough and strong. He was a colorful jewel that created beauty on its own, in its own way, if only the dirt on it could be cleaned. 

He was stained, but he still fought, and that’s part of what made him unique. 

Bruce didn’t realize it, but eventually it became evident how evanescent he was. 

Jason had died. 

— **Later** — 

It was hard, way too hard. Jason had died. Batman spiraled even more out of control than he did when Richard left. He himself didn’t even realize it. 

He wondered, if he pressed it again, would Jason’s ghost be able to find it? Would the special button make Richard reappear? He didn’t really know why he did it, but he pressed the button. 

— **Some Time Later** — 

Bruce forgot about the button until he noticed it said he’d meet his soulmate (again?) in a matter of minutes. 

What he didn’t expect was a scrawny little kid to show up and insist that he needed a Robin. 

The button stopped. 

“No.” 

Bruce expected it to be his final answer, but... 

Again. 

Again. 

Again. 

_Why?_

Again. 

_Why does he keep trying?_

Eventually... 

“Fine.” 

— **Retal Emit Emos** — 

Bruce was unsure about this one. Tim was... interesting. He perpetually insisted to be Robin, but Bruce wasn’t so sure about adopting him. 

However, Tim agreed. He was still grieving over his parents’ fates, and it wasn’t going to change for a while. 

Tim was different from the others. He already knew about the vigilante life when he was adopted. In fact, Bruce learned that he’d been stalking Batman and Robin for years. Tim’s approach was... different. He was much more passive towards the criminals, but still dealt with them. Bruce got the feeling that Tim didn’t like harming people, unlike the monster Bruce hid inside himself, the monster hidden under the cowl. 

Tim was a genius among geniuses. He was like a bright idea without flaws. The twinkle in his eye wasn’t like Richard’s. He didn’t hold starlight inside him. His light was dimmer, less harsh towards eyes that have always seen the dark. It flickered and stopped every now and then, like a broken lamppost. He wasn’t as tough as Jason, but just as determined and independent, if not more. His spirits had been broken by the world’s darkness and challenges, like an asteroid reduced to a clump of rocks, a rubble pile. Not in tact, but still together. 

Bruce wondered how Tim did it. Every day Tim got up dead, only to get crushed more by the weight of the world, yet he fought until the day was done and even woke up the next day. He always fought for tomorrow. Giving up was a temptation, one that Tim always resisted, and it gave Bruce motivation to try harder still. 

He loved his youngest, so very much. 

— **Later...again** — 

The girl looked at him. 

“Cass.” 

Bruce didn’t need a button to inform him that he’d found someone amazing. 

Cass was strong, independent, and so, so sweet. 

She spread kindness around everywhere she went, and she loved people unconditionally. A bright, beating heart amongst the broken, she created life in those around her. She fought like a sharpened sword, but the blunt edge was the only side that hit people. She didn’t know much about the world, but whenever she found something new, her eyes would open in wonder, full of curiosity no one could rival. 

Cass was special, oh so special. Everyone agreed. Everyone loved her like she loved them. She had her own kind of magic, the kind that comes straight from the heart. 

She was _amazing_ , and Bruce was so very lucky to have found her. 

— **Time Skip** — 

Bruce... didn’t expect this. 

“Don’t look so stunned, Father. I thought you’d be taller.” 

... 

...... 

......... 

Bruce didn’t expect this. 

It didn’t matter if they were soulmates or not. In fact, they didn’t even seem too capable of working with each other. Damian was vicious, and at first, there seemed to be no hope. 

After attempting to kill mainly all his siblings on sight, Damian calmed down a bit. 

Damian was a knife. He showed as much compassion as a double-edged sword, yet he held so much. Every feeling but anger and pride was promptly bottled up and ignored. Sadness and joy wouldn’t get an assassin anywhere in life. Damian wore a crown on his head every day, seated on his throne of blood once shed. His loyal subjects were an assortment of animals, all of which he loved and trained. 

Bruce knew it would take a lifetime and a half for Damian to understand everything they did or tried to do for him. It would take lots of discipline for Damian to stop acting like he owned the place and to stop treating lives like things he could just take as he pleased. 

After much time, Damian was different. He’d show compassion. He’d express that he cared. He’d avoid hurting people too much, though he shared the same bloodlust as Bruce. 

Bruce was content... mostly. He wanted everyone to get along as a family. He wanted the fighting to end. 

At least it was better with Alfred. 

A diamond of starlight, a colorful yet stained gem, a crushed soul still filled with determination, a bright, beating heart, a soulless king, looking for a way to show his heart. 

Bruce loved them, he loved them all. They were the world, the light, the love. The will to live, the hidden heart. 

He didn’t know what he would do without them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the dialogue here is not mine. When Jason meets Bruce and when Damian meets Bruce are copied directly from things. The entire plot is basically a replica of what happens, just my writing of it.


	10. Locks of Hair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is posted early to make up for missing the update Friday. I will try to post on every weekday, but I cannot guarantee this will happen.
> 
> Thank you for your patience.

“ _Woah_ ,” Richard said as he entered Batman’s base of operations. “You work from a _cave_? I mean, I get that you’re themed around bats, but I didn’t know you were _that_ obsessed.” 

“I’m not obsessed,” Batman responded with an annoyed tone. His ‘annoyed’ tone sounded like other people’s ‘unamused’ tones. 

“He’s actually afraid of bats,” Batboy whispered, loud enough for Batman to hear easily, “and he _is_ a little obsessed.” 

“Huh,” Richard replied. “Who’s that?” 

“That’s Batgirl,” Batboy said about the red-haired lady who was typing on a computer. 

“So am I going to get to know your identities, or is that an off-topic thing?” 

“I guess it would only be fair, since we already know yours.” 

“True, but the criminals don’t know ours.” 

“That’s the point.” 

“Vigilantism is illegal, so I _am_ a criminal.” 

“Yeah, but we are too in that way. I don’t think it matters.” 

“Well...” Richard extended his hand. “I’m Richard Grayson, also known as Robin.” 

Batboy shook his hand. “I’m-” 

“Drake, what is he doing here?” Shadow’s voice was a snarl. 

Batboy’s (Drake’s?) friendly smile slid off his face. “He’s a part of the team. Need anything else, Demon Spawn?” 

“Your existence to end.” 

Batboy laughed sarcastically. “Sorry, I’m not going to grant that wish. If you’re lucky I’ll die tomorrow.” 

“Tt.” 

“Ignoring the brat,” Batboy said, turning back to Richard, “I’m Tim.” 

” _Identities_ ,” Shadow hissed. 

“My identity is mine to share at my pleasure,” Tim retorted. “It doesn’t matter what B says.” 

“I’m Bruce,” Batman cut in, “Bruce Wayne.” 

For a moment, utter shock filled Shadow’s face, before he recovered and decided to introduce himself. 

“Damian Wayne.” 

“I’m Richard Grayson.” 

“Barbara Gordon,” Batgirl called from across the room. 

“How are you related to them?” Richard asked, knowing that the others were all legally related. 

“Commissioner’s daughter,” Barbara replied nonchalantly. “I got to hear about their adventures from him.” 

“Huh.” 

“Why did you decide to crimefight?” Tim wondered. 

“Vengeance,” Richard answered. 

“Vengeance not justice, then.” 

“...Does this mean I can start putting people out of their misery now?” Shadow asked eagerly. 

“No.” Batman’s voice was unusually harsh compared to normal. 

“Tt.” 

“No killing, Demon Brat.” 

“Who’s the new guy?” someone asked. 

“This is Robin,” Tim answered. 

“Okay. I’m Jason.” 

“Nice to meet you, Jason. My actual name is Richard, but you can call me Dick.” 

“I’m not calling you Dick unless you’re being an a**hole.” 

“That’s fair.” 

“I don’t know about you, but I’ve got work to do.” Tim said before moving to leave. 

“Master Tim, I suggest you get some rest.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

It didn’t sound like he would. 

“I’m Alfred, the butler,” Alfred stated. “Who might you be?” 

“I’m Richard, but you can call me Dick.” 

“Okay, Master Dick. Would you like some tea?” 

“Uh... sure, thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

Jason was laughing in the background. He got slapped by Shadow. Richard threw a questioning look their way. 

“I’m going home,” Barbara announced. “Dad’ll be worried.” 

“See you later, alligator!” Richard called. Barbara threw him a grin before rushing up a staircase. 

“Try not to say too many alligator-related puns,” Jason advised. “Killer Croc doesn’t like them.” 

“I know. I’ve made it my goal to say as many as possible. He’s started coming straight to me rather than eating too many people.” 

“Huh. Never thought of it that way,” Jason commented. 

“So which hero are you?” Richard asked. 

“I’m not interested in the whole ‘heroing’ gig.” 

“Huh. Okay.” 

Something seemed off about that, but Richard didn’t know what. 

“If you _were_ a hero, what name would you choose?” 

“Well, it’d probably be some stupid bat-related name.” 

“Stalagmite,” Richard said with a laugh. 

“Yeah, _no_.” 

“I’m calling you that from now on.” 

“Dick.” 

“Stalagmite.” 

“I think I’d go with Red Hood. I hear the position is unoccupied.” 

“That sounds more like you’d be with Arrow’s team.” 

“Oh, please. His team ‘s full of diversity. Anyone could be a part of it.” 

“True. Maybe I should start working with Black Canary.” 

“Why?” 

“Bird power!” Richard exclaimed, lifting his hands in the air dramatically before doubling over, giggling hysterically. 

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?” 

“Why not?” 

“Whatever.” 

“Anyway, Stalagmite, I’m going home.” 

“Call me that again and I’ll break your face.” 

“As if that hasn’t happened to me before. ‘Night.” 

—Later— 

It was strange, having someone helping him. Richard was used to working alone, not having Batboy silently following him. 

“Am I going to have one of you following me around everywhere I go?” Richard wondered. 

“No. Batman does stuff alone all the time. He just has to start trusting that you’re capable. Shadow isn’t allowed to go anywhere without someone, so he’s with Batgirl. Batman’s alone.” 

“Huh. Wouldn’t it be easier if you had some communication system?” 

“We do. Didn’t you get an earpiece?” 

Richard shook his head. 

“Huh. Maybe Bats doesn’t trust you yet.” 

“I feel like this really _is_ to keep track of me.” 

“That’s probably part of the reason. He-” 

Batboy cut off at the sound of a burglar alarm. 

“I guess it’s time for action,” Richard said, pulling out his escrima sticks. 

“Yep.” 

When they got there, Bobcat was waiting at the place of entry. 

“Are we doing this the easy way or the hard way?” Batboy asked. 

“You know I don’t do easy,” Bobcat retorted before tackling him. 

“Okay, Munchkin,” Richard said. 

“The others,” Tim said. “I’ll handle her.” 

Richard nodded before jumping into the building. 

“Hello,” Panther greeted casually before trying to swipe Richard’s feet out from under him. Emphasis on trying. 

They scuffled a little. Panther had a much quicker reaction time, but Richard was much more skilled. He almost thought for a moment that he would win, but then he saw Catwoman and Feline approaching. 

“Not feeling very astrous,” Richard commented. 

Panther raised an eyebrow. 

“Enemy?” Feline wondered. 

“Yes, sweetie,” Catwoman confirmed. “That’s an enemy.” 

Feline nodded before knocking Richard out with a few swift movements. When Richard woke up, they’d already left. 

“D**n it.” 

“What happened?” It was Batman’s voice. Richard looked over towards him. 

“The Cats stole several cat-themed jewelry pieces and left.” 

Batman grunted disapprovingly. 

“Don’t be hard on him,” Batboy said. “I was there too.” 

“We’ve got to find a way to defeat Feline,” Batgirl stated. 

“Yeah,” Richard replied. “Any ideas?” 

“We’ll discuss this later. For now, you need medical attention,” Shadow said. 

Richard looked at the blood pouring out of an untreated wound Panther had given him. It seemed like to others had tried their best to patch up his wounds. 

“S***.” 

He was lying in a puddle of his own blood. 

—Later— 

“So... any ideas yet?” 

“We could try luring her someplace and trapping her,” Batgirl suggested. 

“No,” Batman disagreed. “She’s too smart to fall for that.” 

“But Catwoman isn’t. If we lure Catwoman there, she might take her accomplices,” Batgirl argued. 

“Wouldn’t it be best if we knew their civilian identities?” Batboy asked. “I can try to figure them out.” 

“I don’t know,” Richard said. “They might not even go out as civilians.” 

“I’ll try to find out their identities anyway. It would be helpful info.” 

“Do you have any ideas, Stalagmite?” Richard asked Jason, who was patching up the wound. 

“You staying still would be nice.” 

“Sorry.” 

“They always seem to know what we’re planning,” Batboy seemed vexed. 

“Do you think they’ve bugged the cave?” Richard wondered. Everyone paused. Batman was the first to speak. 

“Batgirl, check for any transmissions sending information in or out of here. Alfred, Jason, check inside the manor. Batboy and Shadow, you check the Batcave. I’ll check outside. Robin, sit here and rest. We’ll need you later.” 

Robin groaned as everyone set to the tasks with which they’d been provided. 

Why was he still left out of all the fun? 

“I think this is one,” Batboy said, picking a small device off of over the edge of a cliff. 

“That cliff hardly seems safe,” Richard commented. 

“It isn’t.” 

By the time everyone had gotten back together, they’d collected a total of fifteen transmitters. 

“I’ll try to see where they’re sending the information,” Batgirl stated. 

“They’ve placed fifteen transmitters throughout the manor and we didn’t notice. _Fifteen_ ,” said Batboy. 

Batman grunted. 

“I’m going to go check my apartment for bugs.” Richard said. “I need to go home anyway.” 

Batman nodded. 

“In a while, crocodile!” 

Jason shot him an amused glance. Richard smiled. 

—Retal, ta sih tnemtrapa— 

Richard didn’t find any trackers, but he _did_ find a note. 

_Meet me at this location, 6:00 tomorrow evening._

_-Panther_

It had latitude and longitude coordinates on it, down to the minutes. After checking the coordinates on Wayne Enterprises’ mapping system, he found that it was a restaurant. 

_Probably on the roof, then._

Richard texted Tim, who’d given him his number, about the note. 

**Richard: I got a note from Panther asking me to meet him tomorrow at 6:00 pm.**

**Tim: Aww, congrats on your first date!**

**Richard: Very funny. Is Serious Tim around?**

**Tim: Nope, just me. Are you meeting him?**

**Richard: Maybe. I’d like a way to communicate if it’s a trap.**

**Tim: I’ll talk to B.**

**Richard: Thanks.**

**Tim: No problem.**

**Richard: Why are you still up?**

**Tim: Why are you?**

**Richard: I’m up because I’m looking for bugs. You should get to sleep.**

**Tim: Whatever. Good night.**

**Richard: Don’t let the bed bugs give you too many existential crises.**

**Tim: What is wrong with you?**

**Richard: Everything.**

Richard looked back at the note and sighed. He’d have to check to see if anything was missing. 

In the end, all he found was a single transmitter placed on the suit he planned to use. 

He noticed a small gray note with slightly lighter gray writing. 

_Happy Birthday, Richard Grayson._

_— Bobcat_

Richard stared blankly for a moment before trying to remove the tracker. When he finally managed it, glitter flew everywhere. 

_Why do the Cats have to love shiny things so much?_ he lamented. 

Now he was going to have to clean this entire room... several times. 

Glitter was the worst.


	11. Hot & Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The warmer someone is, the closer that person is to their soulmate. The colder, the farther.
> 
> In other words: finding your soulmate is a big game of hot & cold

Richard didn’t understand why he was always so cold. He was freezing all day every day, and he was pretty sure he’d remain that way even if he was in the middle of a desert. 

One time he asked a stranger (one that understood Romanian, thank goodness), who explained the reasoning. If you were far from your soulmate, you would feel extremely cold, and around them, you’d feel pretty hot. 

Richard wondered whether he’d prefer the heat or not. Sure, his bones being numb all the time and his muscles stiff made trapeze difficult, but he mastered it anyway. 

He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be warm. He bet it felt nice, and maybe that’s why his parents always hung around each other. His parents had off-handedly mentioned being soulmates in the past, but he hadn’t though much of it then. 

He asked them what it would feel like if they were on other sides of the world, and they responded by mentioning a story they’d heard from someone. This person and his soulmate were scientists, so they’d decided to test that, and they learned that it would always feel like you were in at most -10 degrees celsius weather, which was more than mildly unpleasant. When he described his symptoms, they got concerned. 

“Maybe it’s just me,” Richard comforted. 

“It’ll be okay,” Mary said, not wanting to reveal the utterly undeniable truth that his soulmate was dead. There was no other way one could feel so cold. 

— **Guess What? It’s a Time Skip! How Rare...**

He was warm. He didn’t know why, or how he knew this was what it felt like to be warm, but he was warm. 

He was also in love. This lady was... beautiful. 

_What?_ Richard wondered as the lady kissed him randomly. 

“I am Koriand’r of Tamaran. My people exchange information through the act of kissing.” 

“Huh.” 

After flirting a little and having her explain why she’d been being attacked, they let her stick around, and she didn’t end up leaving. 

— 

“I have never felt such warmth,” she commented at some point. 

“Me neither,” Richard stated. 

She smiled. “Does this mean we are the soulmates?” 

“Probably.” 

“That is not the definite answer.” 

“I think we are.” 

“I do not care. I love you, even if you are not the soulmate of the mine.” 

“I love you too, Star.” 

—Steph— 

Steph looked at the boy questioningly. 

“You act like I’m burning you to death,” she said, inching her hand closer. 

“Stop,” the boy protested, taking several steps away from her. 

She laughed and chased him for a while, eventually losing him over the edge of a rooftop. Where was he now... 

“Robin, if you don’t get over here, I’m confiscating your coffee.” 

“What? No!” 

“Found you!” Steph exclaimed, dropping a paint bomb on him. He dodged it mostly, but it still got paint all over him. 

“Hey!” 

Steph laughed. “It’s not like it changes your costume much.” 

“Why would you do this to me? You _know_ it takes forever to get paint out of these things!” 

“You know it takes forever to get smells out of them, too. I’m wearing like a whole bottle of perfume and I can barely smell it over the sewer smell.” 

“It’s not my fault we had to go in the sewers!” 

“You got the clue wrong!” 

“You’re the one who insisted on taking down Cluemaster rather than doing patrol. Batman could’ve done it without us.” 

“It’s still your fault!” 

“So it’s _my_ fault now that Gotham is full of crazy, maniacal attention-seekers who want to rule or destroy the world?” 

“No, but it _is_ your fault that we went in the sewers!” 

“That’s not my fault!” 

“Yes it is!” 

“Robin, Spoiler,” Oracle’s voice interrupted their argument, “what is your condition?” 

“Oh, right. We’re fine. Rob ‘s just his usual annoying prig self.” 

“Understood-” there was a ‘hey!’ from Robin “-there’s a gang fight a few blocks to your left.” 

“Thanks, O,” Steph said. “Steph out.” 

“Good luck.” 

Steph turned to Robin. “C’mon, Paint Boy. We’ve got a gang fight to break up!” 

Robin groaned. Steph knew he’d prefer for her to be quiet, since they were on patrol, but he smiled and shook his head as they departed. He never really showed it openly, but he was very caring and patient on the inside. He couldn’t hide how cute he looked, though. The small, malnourished teenager had his own charms. Fluffy black hair, kind, intelligent eyes... he was absolutely adorable. 

She liked the little things about him. He loved physical touch and craved affection, but he was too shy to reach out, and he didn’t like it when people touched him for too long. The longest time she’d spent touching him had been when they were cuddling on a couch, watching a movie. He’d wrapped himself up in a blanket and gotten a bowl of popcorn. The little blanket burrito hadn’t protested to cuddles. 

Steph liked how focused Tim looked when he worked on his projects. He’d sit there for hours staring down at whatever it was and trying different things until he got it to work properly. Sometimes it was worrisome because he wouldn’t sleep or eat for days. However, Steph had found a way to get him to absentmindedly eat; if she placed a snack in just the right place, he would start eating it when thinking. 

The look on Tim’s face was absolutely priceless whenever he was flustered or shocked. His smile never failed to lift her mood, as long as it wasn’t fake. In Steph’s opinion, he was the world. 

She couldn’t love her soulmate more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m late! I’m late! It’s short, and I’m late!
> 
> I’m sorry. I forgot to update yesterday and I almost forgot today.
> 
> I’m a mess, just like my life.


	12. Names

Jon didn’t bother to hide it. For him, it happened at first sight. If they were soulmates, he knew Damian would already know. He was observant, and Jon doubted he wouldn’t notice a name randomly appearing on him. He probably got a lot of names written on him. After all, once a soulmate became attracted to one of their soulmates, their name would appear on them. The closer the two were as soulmates, the closer it would be to their heart. 

Jon rarely noticed any names appearing on him, but when they did, they typically disappeared after a while. Maybe he was unattractive and people just didn’t notice immediately. When he became Superboy, people’s names started appearing all over him, to the point where it was frustrating. 

The names that barely showed because people had a small celebrity crush on him, the names that showed to the point of him painting over them, they all annoyed him. He knew his father suffered much worse. After all, Superman was, well... _Superman_. He was a member of the _Justice League_. _The_ Justice League. He was the savior of Metropolis, the hero of the world whose kindness was known by everyone. 

Jon wondered how much Batman suffered. He’d already noticed the name Talia written on Batman’s collarbone. From what Jon knew, Richard had it the worst out of the Waynes, Tim being a close second. Jon wondered how they handled it. He had enough problems covering up the names that appeared on him. 

Light blue caught his attention. What did that mean again? After consulting a chart he’d created, he assumed it meant unrequited love. That was the color of most of the names. Light purple was friendly affection, red was hate-love, and orange was jealousy (he’d always wondered how that was love). Yellow was the kind of general care you’d feel for someone, such as when you want to protect everyone and that person is included. Jon wondered how many people had yellow ‘Clarks’... or would it be Kal El? Jon knew it depended. He’d noticed a yellow ‘Superboy’ that appeared on the hand of someone he saved. 

Pink was one of the only ones to which he payed attention. It represented familial love, such as the love between siblings or a parent and a child. He had several pink names, right near his heart. Clark and Lois were just the start of it. He’d noticed when Conner appeared, and he’d had to check to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Conner had taken a long time to actually accept him as a little-brother-nephew type thing. A few moments after they met, Nightwing had appeared in pink. Jon wondered what he viewed him as. A cousin, maybe? Bruce and Clark were a lot like brothers. Jon knew they were simply best friends, though, because Bruce’s name was written on Clark in dark gray, for deep friendship. No pink. 

Jon sighed and left his room, ready for another boring day of school. He got downstairs, ate his breakfast, began to leave and then remembered it was Saturday. Oops. How could he forget Saturday? It was the best day of the week! 

“We’re going to visit Wayne Manor today,” Clark announced. 

Jon smiled. The Waynes were a crazy family, sure, but they had fun together. Jason and Steph always knew where all the funnest places were. Damian always seemed very grumpy, but he had tons of animals. Richard was a handful, but he loved everyone and was always willing to try new things. People were always happy around Cass; she just lit up the room somehow. Tim didn’t interact with Jon much, but he always seemed to have the answers to Jon’s questions... even is he normally waved Jon away, telling him to ask Damian. Barbara rarely was at the Manor when Jon visited, so they interacted even less than Jon and Tim did. 

When Jon and his family arrived at the Manor, Alfred was waiting for them. He led them inside and to a living room. Jon couldn’t help but observe the sheer size of the place as they made their way through the huge hallways. Richard was the first Bat-kid to notice their presence, which became obvious when the young adult flipped over the railing of a stairway. 

“Uncle Clark!” Richard exclaimed, jumping into Clark and hugging him violently. 

“Hey, Dick. How’ve you been?” 

“I’m good. Jason reorganized my room, though, so that’s been fun to fix.” 

Clark chuckled as Richard turned his attention to the others. 

“Hey, Lois,” he greeted casually. “Hi, Jon.” 

Jon smiled, tolerating his hair being ruffled for a moment before shoving away Richard’s hand. 

“Where’s Damian?” Jon asked, almost jumping for joy. (If he actually jumped, he might end up jumping through the ceiling.) 

“He’s in his room,” Richard answered. 

“Okay,” Jon said. 

Footsteps sounded from the stairway off of which Richard had flipped, indicating Jason’s arrival. 

“Hey,” he said without care. 

“Hi, Jason!” Jon greeted. 

“Jaybird!” Richard flung himself onto Jason, leaping into a full-body hug. 

“What the fudge, Dickhead?” 

“You’ve been hiding in your room! I’m so proud of you for actually greeting our guests! It’s a huge step in-” 

Richard’s words were muffled by Jason shoving his face away in annoyance. 

“Hello, Kent,” Damian greeted. Jon jumped, forcing himself to fall back to the ground; he’d been too focused on Jason and Dick to notice Damian. 

“Damian!” Jon exclaimed, leaping into a forced hug, similarly to how Dick had hugged Jason moments earlier. 

“Let go of me, Kent,” Damian said. 

Jon let go hesitantly. He turned his attention to the almost silent noise coming from the stairs, trying to prevent his superhearing from activating. He noticed Tim coming down the stairs, who seemed to regret exiting his room the moment he laid eyes on the Kents. Jon felt a little guilty for disturbing Tim’s peace—Tim always hated visitors. 

“Hey Uncle Clark,” Tim greeted, sounding braindead and extremely tired. 

“Hi, Tim,” Clark answered. 

“Hi, Tim!” Jon repeated a little more enthusiastically. 

Tim just nodded at him in acknowledgment. Jon saw him walk over to a table, place his computer down, and flop onto it as if it were a pillow. 

They had lunch, played games, watched a few movies... Eventually they even ~~forced~~ convinced Tim and Jason to join them. 

Jon noticed Damian glancing at him occasionally, and he wondered why. Every time it seemed like Damian was about to say something, Jason would jab him in the side and tell him to move his piece. 

Tim won monopoly, of course. 

They ate dinner—Jon got to sit back and watch the Waynes bicker—and then his father announced it was time to go home. 

— 

The next morning, as Jon was getting dressed, he noticed a new name in dark gray, right next to his heart. 

He wondered who would have a name like ‘Ibn al Xu’ffasch’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Sorry I’ve been gone so long. :/
> 
> I’ve been working on a _ton_ of other fics, and with all the chaos, I’ve barely found time to work on this.
> 
> If you want to read my other fanfictions, you can find them if you click my name, ‘DC_Batfam’.
> 
> If you liked this fic, I’d suggest reading ‘Shenanigans’. It’s as light and fluffy as this fic can get, but there’s no romance.
> 
> (I guess this is a shameless plug in my own work..? I’m not sure of the internet terms.)
> 
> Well, I hope you enjoyed, and again, sorry I’ve been gone so long.


	13. Names: Bonus Scene

Jon, Dick, Tim, and Jason were all sitting on the floor, Tim working on a case as the rest of them had just finished a series of games. 

“I’ve noticed you have a lot of soulmates,” Jon commented. 

“Yeah,” Jason said. “Having so many names is annoying. At least most of them stopped coming after I died.” 

“I really don’t mind,” Dick said. “It’s just frustrating to cover up before parties or patrol.” 

Tim groaned. “I agree that they’re annoying. I guess it’s nice to know what others think of you, but still... it’s just frustrating, having to cover them up.” 

“I kind of like them,” Jon said. “It kind of makes me feel, well... cared about? Knowing people like me is great.” 

“I guess,” Tim said. 

“I love my soulmates,” Dick said. 

“Especially the red-haired ones,” Jason muttered. 

“Yep! I really love you.” 

“What?” 

“C’mere Jaybird!” 

Dick pounced into a hug. 

Jason groaned and Dick got off him, grinning. 

“You know you love me too,” Dick said. 

“In your dreams.” 

“Do you guys have any soulmate’s names you don’t understand?” 

“Hm? Like what?” Dick asked. 

“I don’t know, different languages?” 

“We understand a lot of different languages,” Tim said. 

“I had to look up the alphabet,” Jon said. “I have this weird one, like right near my heart. Something like ‘Ibn al Xu’ffasch’..?” 

Tim paused. “Son of th-” 

Jason burst into laughter. “That’s _hilarious_! I-I can’t breathe- help.” 

“What’s so funny, Jaybird?” 

“Son of the Bat?” Tim said, tilting his head to the side. “...Damian?” 

“What?” Jon asked. 

“Ohmygoodness,” Dick said. “I have to go find Dami. Damiiiiiii!” 

He ran off, leaving Jason to his laughing, Tim to his thoughts, and Jon to his confusion. 

_...Damian..?_

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked the work! I _will_ do requests (as long as they fit with what I write). It you want, you can request something that doesn’t fit with ‘Soulmates!’ and I’ll probably make another work for it. ...Maybe make another work for requests..?
> 
> Constructive criticism is always welcome. I’m always looking for a chance to improve.
> 
> I enjoy Kudos and comments, but I can’t guarantee the speed at which I respond.
> 
> I’d also like suggestions for which pairings to do, because I don’t know which people would prefer.
> 
> Have a good day!
> 
> (P.S. Thank you all for the kudos and comments! This is my most successful work, and I’m really glad people are enjoying it!)


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